3级2-04牙齿和爪子Tooth And Claw1-2
3级2-04牙齿和爪子Tooth And Claw1-2.txt
Sredni Vashtar
Conradin was ten years old and was often ill．
'The boy is not strong，'said the doctor．'He will not live much longer．'But the doctor did not know about Conradin's imagination． In Conradin's lonely， loveless world，his imagination was the only thing that kept him alive．
Conradin's parents were dead and he lived with his aunt．The aunt did not like Conradin and was often unkind to him．Conradin hated her with all his heart， but he obeyed her quietly and took his medicine without arguing． Mostly he kept out of her way．She had no place in his world． His real， everyday life in his aunt's colourless， comfortless house was narrow and uninteresting． But inside his small， dark head exciting and violent thoughts ran wild． In the bright world of his imagination Conradin was strong and brave． It was a wonderful world， and the aunt was locked out of it．
The garden was no fun． There was nothing interesting to do． He was forbidden to pick the flowers． He was forbidden to eat the fruit． He was forbidden to play on the grass But behind some trees， in a forgotten corner of the garden， there was an old shed Nobody used the shed， and Conradin took it for his own．
To him it became something between a playroom and a church． He filled it with ghosts and animals from his imagination． But there were also two living things in the shed． In one corner lived an old， untidy-looking chicken． Conradin had no people to love， and this chicken was the boy's dearest friend．And in a dark， secret place at the back of the shed was a large wooden box with bars across the front． This was the home of a very large ferret with long， dangerous teeth and claws．Conradin had bought the ferret and its box from a friendly boy， who lived in the village． It had cost him all his money，but Conradin did not mind．He was most terribly afraid of the ferret， but he loved it with all his heart． It was his wonderful，terrible secret． He gave the ferret a strange and beautiful name and it became his god．
The aunt went to church every Sunday． She took Conradin with her， but to Conradin her church and her god were without meaning． They seemed grey and uninteresting．The true god lived in the shed， and his name was Sredni Vashtar．
Every Thursday， in the cool， silent darkness of the shed，Conradin took presents to his god． He took flowers in summer and fruits in autumn， and he made strange and wonderful songs for his god． Sometimes， on days when something important happened， Conradin took special presents．He stole salt from the kitchen and placed it carefully and lovingly in front of the ferret's box．
One day the aunt had the most terrible toothache． It con tinued for three days． Morning and evening Conradin put salt in front of his god． In the
end he almost believed that Sredni Vashtar himself had sent the toothache．
After a time the aunt noticed Conradin's visits to the shed．
'It's not good for him to play out there in the cold，' she said． She could always find a reason to stop Conradin enjoying himself． The next morning at breakfast she told Conradin that she had sold the chicken． She looked at Conradin's white face , and waited for him to cry or to be angry． But Conradin said nothing； there was nothing to say．
Perhaps the aunt felt sorry． That afternoon there was hot buttered toast for tea． Toast was usually forbidden． Conradin loved it， but the aunt said that it was bad for him． Also， it made extra work for the cook． Conradin looked at the toast and quietly took a piece of bread and butter．
'I thought you liked toast，' the aunt said crossly．
'Sometimes，'said Conradin．
In the shed that evening Conradin looked sadly at the empty corner where his chicken had lived． And， for the first time， he asked his ferret-god to do something for him．
'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar，'he said softly．
He did not say what he wanted． Sredni Vashtar was a god， after all． There is no need to explain things to gods．Then， with a last look at the empty corner， Conradin returned to the world that he hated．
And every night， in the shed and in his bedroom， Con radin repeated again and again．
'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar．'
So Conradin's visits to the shed continued． The aunt no ticed， and went to look in the shed again．
'What are you keeping in that locked box？' she asked．' I'm sure you're keeping an animal there． It's not good for you．
Conradin said nothing．
The aunt searched his bedroom until she found the key to the box． She marched down to the shed． It was a cold afternoon， and Conradin was forbidden to go outside． From the window of the dining－room Conradin could just see the door of the shed． He stood and waited．
He saw the aunt open the shed door． She went inside．Now， thought Conradin， she has found the box． She is opening the door， and feeling about inside the box where my god lives．
'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar，'said Conradin softly． But he said it without hope． She will win， he thought．She always wins． Soon she will come out of the shed and give her orders． Somebody will come and take my wonderful god away-not a god any more，just a brown ferret in a box．Then there will be nothing important in my life… The doctor will be right． I shall sicken and die． She will win． She always wins… In his pain and misery， Conradin began to sing the song of his god：
Sredni Vashtar went into battle．
His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white．
his enemies called
for peace but be brought them death．
Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful．
Suddenly he stopped singing and went nearer to the window．The door of the shed was still open． Slowly， very slowly the minutes went by． Conradin watched the birds on the grass．He counted them， always with one eye on that open door． The unsmiling housekeeper came in with the tea things． Still Sonradin stood and watched and waited． Hope was growing，like a small， sick flower， in his heart． Very softly he sang his song again， and his hope grew and grew． And then he saw a very wonderful thing．
Out of the shed came a long， low， yellow－and－brown animal． There were red， wet stains around its mouth and neck．
'Sredni Vashtar！' said Conradin softly． The ferret－god made its way to the bottom of the garden． It stopped for a moment， then went quietly into the long grass and disappeared for ever．
'Tea is ready，' said the housekeeper． 'Where is your aunt？'
'She went down to the shed，' said Conradin．
And， while the housekeeper went down to call the aunt，Conradin took the toasting－fork out of the dining－room cupboard． He sat by the fire and toasted a piece of bread for himself． While he was toasting it and putting butter on it，Conradin listened to the noises beyond the dining room door．First there were loud screams-that was the housekeeper．Then there was the cook's answering cry．Soon there came the sound of several pairs of feet． They were carrying something heavy into the house．
'Who is going to tell that poor child？' said the housekeeper．
'Well， someone will have to，'answered the cook． And，while they were arguing， Conradin made himself another piece of toast．
斯莱德尼·瓦什塔
康拉丁10岁，经常生病。
“这孩子不结实，”医生说，“他活不了太久。”但是医生不了解康拉丁的想像力。在康拉丁孤独无爱的世界里，他的想像力是唯一支撑他活着的东西。
康拉丁的父母已亡故，他和姑妈住在一起。姑妈不喜欢康拉丁，经常对他不好。康拉丁从心底里恨她，但是平静地服从她，而且毫无怨言地服药。多数时间他远离她。她在他的世界里没有一席之地。在姑妈单调不舒服的家里，他真正的日常生活狭窄无趣。但是在他又小又黑的脑袋里，活跃、思想在狂奔。在想像中的明快世界里，康拉丁健壮勇敢。这是一个美好的世界，姑妈被锁在了这个世界之外。
花园里不好玩，没有有趣的事情做。他被禁止摘花，被禁止吃果子，被禁止在草坪上玩耍。但是在一些树后，在花园一个被遗忘的角落有一个陈旧的小屋。
没人用这个小屋，康拉丁便把它据为己有。对他而言小屋成了一个介于游戏室和教堂的
地方。他在其中装满了想像中的鬼怪和动物。但是里面也有两个活物。在一个角落有一只蓬头垢面的老母鸡。康拉丁没有什么人去爱，于是这只鸡成了他最好的朋友。在小屋靠后的一个黑暗秘密的地方有一只大木箱，它的前面横竖着一些铁条。在这木箱里有一只长着又长又危险的牙齿和爪子的大雪貂。康拉丁从住在村里的一个很友好的男孩那里买下了这只雪貂和箱子。这花掉了他所有的钱，但是康拉丁不在乎。他非常害怕这只雪貂，可又全心全意地爱它。它是他精彩可怕的秘密。他给雪貂起了一个又古怪又好听的名字，它成了他的上帝。
姑妈每个星期天都去教堂。她带康拉丁一起去，但对康拉丁来说她的教堂和上帝毫无意义，而且似乎灰暗枯燥。真正的上帝住在小屋里，它的名字叫斯莱德尼·瓦什塔。
每个星期四，在小屋阴凉沉寂的黑暗中，康拉丁都给他的上帝带些礼物。他带来夏季的鲜花和秋天的果实，他给他的上帝编唱些古怪奇妙的歌曲。有时，在有某件重要事情发生的日子，康拉丁会带来特殊的礼物。他从厨房偷来盐并小心疼爱地放在雪貂箱子的前面。
有一天姑妈的牙疼得特别厉害。疼痛持续了三天。早上和晚上康拉丁都在他的上帝面前放点盐。最后他几乎相信是斯莱德尼·瓦什塔带来的牙疼。
过了一段时间，姑妈注意到康拉丁总是去小屋。
“在外面冷风里玩对他不好，”她说。她总是能找到一个理由不让康拉丁玩得开心。第二天早上吃早餐时，她告诉康拉丁她已经卖掉了那只鸡。她看着康拉丁苍白的脸，等着他哭或者生气。但是康拉丁一句话没说；没什么可说的。
可能姑妈觉得内疚了。那天下午喝茶时上了热黄油面包。烤面包平时是不让吃的。康拉丁喜欢吃，但是姑妈说吃烤面包对他不好。而且，烤面包对厨子来说太费事。康拉丁看着烤面包，平静地拿了一片面包和黄油。
“我想你喜欢烤面包，”姑妈生气地说。
“有时候是，”康拉丁说。
那天晚上在小屋里，康拉丁伤心地看着母鸡曾住过的那个空空的角落。于是，第一次，他让他的雪貂上帝为他做一件事。
“为我做一件事，斯莱德尼·瓦什塔，”他轻声地说。
他没有说出他的想法。斯莱德尼·瓦什塔终究是上帝，没有必要向上帝把什么事都说的一清二楚。然后，在看了那个空角落最后一眼之后，康拉丁回到了他憎恨的世界。
每天晚上在小屋和卧室里，康拉丁反复重复着那句话。
“为我做一件事，斯莱德尼·瓦什塔。”
因此康拉丁继续去小屋。姑妈发现后，又去小屋察看
。
“你在那个锁着的箱子里养了什么？”她问。“我肯定你在那儿养了一只动物。这对你不好。”
康拉丁一言不发。
姑妈搜他的卧室，最后她终于找到了那个箱子的钥匙。她冲向小屋。这是一个寒冷的下午，康拉丁被禁止到外面去。从餐厅的窗户那儿康拉丁刚好能看见小屋的门。他站着等着。
他看见姑妈打开小屋房门进去了。现在，康拉丁想，她已经找到了箱子。她正在开箱子门，正在我的上帝居住的箱子里面摸索。
“为我做一件事，斯莱德尼·瓦什塔，”康拉丁轻声说。但是他说这话时没有抱什么希望。她会赢，他想，她总是赢。一会儿她就要从小屋出来，对他发号施令。会有人来拿走我的好上帝——再不是上帝了，只是木箱里的一只棕色雪貂。然后我的生活里就没有了重要的东西……医生是对的，我将生病死去。她将赢，她总是赢……在痛苦中，康拉丁开始唱他的上帝之歌：
斯莱德尼·瓦什塔上战场，他的思想鲜红牙齿雪亮。
敌人乞求和平，他将他们灭亡。
美丽的斯莱德尼·瓦什塔。
突然他停止歌唱，走近窗户。小屋的门还开着。慢慢地，非常慢地过了几分钟。康拉丁望着草地上的小鸟，数着它们，一只眼睛却总是看着那扇开着的门。毫无笑容的管家端着茶点进来，康拉丁还是站着、看着、等着。希望在增长，像心里一朵生病的小花。他又非常轻声地唱起了歌，希望又增长了。然后他看见了一个非常奇妙的东西。
从小屋出来一只又长又矮的黄棕色动物，它的嘴和脖于周围有湿红的血斑。
“斯莱德尼·瓦什塔！”康拉丁柔声说。雪貂上帝走向花园深处。它停顿片刻，然后悄悄地走进深远的草丛，永远地消失了。
“茶点好了，”管家说，“你姑妈在哪儿？”
“她下楼去小屋了，”康拉丁说。
于是，管家下楼去叫姑妈时，康拉丁从餐厅的壁柜里拿出面包叉。他坐在炉火旁给自己烤了一片面包。正当他烤着面包、在上面抹黄油时，康拉丁听着餐室外的吵闹声。先是尖叫声——那是管家，然后是厨子的喊叫声。一会儿传来几个人的脚步声。他们正往屋里拍个很沉的东西。
“谁去告诉那可怜的孩子？”管家说。
“哎，总得有人去，”厨子回答。当他们在争论的时候，康拉丁又给自己烤了一片面包。
The Story-Teller
It was a hot， airless afternoon． The train was slow and the next stop was nearly an hour away． The people in the train were hot and tired． There were three small children and their aunt， and a tall man， who was a bachelor． The bachelor did n
ot know the little family，and he did not want to know them．
The aunt and the children talked， but it was not a real conversation． It was more like a battle with a small housefly which will not go away． When the aunt spoke to the children，she always began with 'Don't… 'When the children spoke to her， they always began with'Why…'The bachelor said nothing aloud．
The small boy opened his mouth and closed it again． It made an interesting little noise， so he did it again． Open．Close． Open． Close．
'Don't do that， Cyril，'said the aunt．' Come and look out of the window．'The boy closed his mouth and sat next to the window． He looked out at the green fields and trees．
'Why is that man taking those sheep out of that field？'he asked suddenly．
'Perhaps he's taking them to another field where there is more grass，'said the aunt． It was not a very good answer，and the boy knew it．
'But there is lots of grass in that field，' he said．'The field is full of grass， Aunt． Why doesn't the man leave his sheep in that field？'
'I suppose the grass in the other field is better， ' answered the aunt．
'Why is it better？'asked Cyril at once．
'Oh， look at those cows！'cried the aunt． There were cows in nearly all the fields along the railway line． Cyril did not look at the cows． He wanted an answer to his question．
'Why is the grass in the other field better？' he said again．
The bachelor gave them an angry look． The aunt saw him． He's a hard， unkind man， she thought． He doesn't like children． She searched for a suitable answer to Cyril's question， but could not find one．
The smaller girl began to say some words from a song：
'On the road to Mandalay， where the happy children play，'she began．
Then she stopped． She could not remember any more words， so she said the first words again， quietly but very clearly． Then she said them again． And again． And again．
The bachelor looked angrily at the girl， and then at the aunt．
'Come here and sit down quietly，'the aunt said quickly to the children．'I'm going to tell you a story．'
The children moved slowly towards the aunt's seat． They already looked bored． Clearly， the aunt was not a famous story-teller．
The story was horribly uninteresting． It was about a little girl． She was not a beautiful child， but she was always very，very good．Everybody loved her because she was good．Finally， she fell into a lake and her friends saved her because she was so good， and they loved her so much．
'Did they only save her because she was good？' asked the bigger girl．Shouldn't we save bad people too， if they fall in to a lake？'The bachelor wanted to ask the same question， but he said nothing．
'Well， yes， we
should，' said the aunt．'But I'm sure the little girl's friends ran specially fast because they loved her so much．'
'That was the stupidest story that I've ever heard，'said the bigger girl．
'I didn't listen after the first few words，' said Cyril，'because it was so stupid．'
The smaller girl was already quietly repeating the words of her song for the twentieth time．
'You're not very successful as a story-teller，' the bachelor said suddenly from his corner．
The aunt looked at him in angry surprise．'It's not easy to tell stories that children can understand，' she answered coldly．
'I don't agree with you，' said the bachelor．
'Perhaps you would like to tell them a story，'said the aunt． She gave him a cold little smile．
'Yes— tell us a story，' said the bigger girl．
'A long time ago，'began the bachelor，'there was a little girl called Bertha， who was extraordinarily good． She always worked well at school． She always obeyed her teachers and her parents． She was never late， never dirty， and always ate all her vegetables． She was polite， she was tidy， and she never， never told lies．'
'Oh，' said the children． They were beginning to look bored already．
'Was she pretty？' asked the smaller girl．
' No，' said the bachelor． 'She wasn't pretty． But she was horribly good．'
'Horribly good． I like that！' said Cyril． The children began to look more interested． The words 'horrible' and 'good'together was a new idea for them， and it pleased them．
'Bertha was always good，'continued the bachelor．'Because she was so good， Bertha had three medals． There was the “Never Late” medal． There was the “Politeness” medal．And there was the medal for the “Best Child in the World”．They were very large medals． Bertha always wore them on her dress， and they clinked as she walked along． She was the only child in her town who had three medals．So everybody knew that she must be an extra good child．'
'Horribly good，' repeated Cyril happily．
'Everybody talked about Bertha's goodness． The king of that country heard about her， and he was very pleased．“Because Bertha is so good，”he said，“she may come and walk in my palace gardens every Friday afternoon．”The king's gardens were famous． They were large and very beautiful， and children were usually forbidden to go in them．'
'Were there any sheep in the palace gardens？' asked Cyril．
'No，' said the bachelor，'there were no sheep．'
'Why weren't there any sheep？'asked Cyril at once．
The aunt gave a little smile， and waited with interest for the bachelor's answer．
'There were no sheep in the king's gardens，' explained the bachelor， 'because the king's mother had once had a dream． In h
er dream a voice said to her，“Your son will be killed by a sheep，or by a clock falling on him．” Thst is why the king never kept a sheep in his gardens or a clock in his palace．'
The aunt thought secretly that this was a very clever answer， but she stayed silent．
'Was the king killed by a sheep， or by a clock？ asked the bigger girl．
'He is still alive，' said the bachelor calmly，'so we don't know if the dream was true or not． But， although there were no sheep， there were lots of little pigs running around everywhere．'
'What colour were the pigs？ asked the smaller glrl．
'Black with white faces， white with black faces， all balck， grey and white， and some were all white．'
The bachelor stopped for a moment， while the children's imaginations took in these wonderful pictures． Then he went on again．
'Bertha was sorry that there were no flowers in the palace gardens． She had promised her aunts that she would not pick any of the kind king's flowers． She wanted very much to be good and to keep her promise． So she was very cross when she found that there were no flowers to pick．'
'Why weren't there any flowers？'
'Because the pigs had eaten them all，' said the bachelor immediately．' The gardeners had told the king that he couldn't have pigs and flowers， because pigs eat flowers． So the king decided to have pigs，and no flowers．'
The children thought that this was an excellent idea．
'Most people choose flowers，' said Cyril． He looked very pleased．'But of course， pigs are much better than flowers．'
'There were lots of other wonderful things in the palace gardens，'the bachelor continued． 'There were lakes with gold and blue and green fish in them． There were trees with beautiful birds that could talk and say clever things．There were also birds that could sing popular songs．
'Well， on the first Friday afternoon in May， Bertha came to the king's gardens， the king's soldiers saw her beautiful white dress and her three medals for goodness， and they opened the doors to the gardens at once．
'Bertha walked up and down and enjoyed herself very much． As she walked along， the three medals on her beautiful white dress clinked against each other． She heard them clinking， and she thought：“I'm here in these lovely gardens because I am the Best Child in the World．”She felt pleased and happy and very， very good．
'Just then a very big， hungry wolf came into the gardens． It wanted to catch a fat little pig for its supper．'
'What colour was the wolf？ asked the children， who were listening to the story with great interest．
'He was grey，'said the bachelor，'with a black tongue and angrg yellow eges． He had long black claws and big，strong， yellowish teeth． The wolf was hungry． He smell
ed the ground with his long grey nose． Then he saw Bertha's beautiful， clean white dress and began to move quietly towards her．
'Bertha saw the wolf and she wished she had not come to the gardens．Oh， why did I come here？”she thought．“All the bad children are safe at home． I wish I wasn't an extraordinarily good child！ Then I could be safe at home too．”She ran as hard as she could， and the wolf came after her on his long grey legs．
'At last Bertha mannged to reach some big， sweet smelling myrtle bushes， and she hid herself in the thickest bush． The wolf walked round and round the bushes， with his angry yellow eyes and his long blach tongue． But he couldn't see Bertha because the bushes were too thick， and he couldn't smell her because the smell of the myrtle was too strong． So after a while the wolf became bored， and decided to go and catch a little pig for his supper．
'Bertha was terribly frightened． Her heart beat very fast and her body shook with fear． Her arms shook and her legs shook． Her three medals for goodness shook too． And as they shook， they clinked together． The wolf was just moving away， when he heard the medals clinking， and he stopped to listen． The medals clinked again． The wolf's yellow eyes shone， and he ran into the myrtle bushes， pulled Bertha out，and ate her． He ate everything except her shoes， a few small pieces of her dress， and the three medals for goodness．'
'Were any of the little pigs killed？' asked Cyril．
'No， they all escaped．'
'The story began badly，' said the smaller girl，'but it finished beautifully．'
'It is the most beautiful story that I have ever heard，'said the bigger girl．
'It is the only beautiful story I have ever heard，' said Cyril．
The aunt did not agree．'It was a most improper story！'she said angrily．'You mustn't tell children stories like that！You have destroyed years of careful teaching．'
'Well，' said the bachelor． He put on his coat and picked up his bags．'The children sat still and were quiet for ten minutes while they listened to the story． And they didn't do that for you．'
'I feel sorry for that woman，' thought the bachelor as he stepped down from the train at the next station．'What will people think when those children ask her for an improper story！'
讲故事的人
这是一个炎热无风的下午。火车缓慢行进，离下一站还有将近一个小时的路程。火车里的人又热又累。有三个孩子和他们的姑妈，以及一个单身高个子男人。单身男人不认识这个小家庭，也不想认识他们。
姑妈在和孩子们说话，但算不上真正的交谈，更像和一只不愿离开的小家蝇的打斗。姑妈对孩子们说话时总是用“不许……”几个字开头，孩子们对她说话时总
是用“为什么……”开头。单身男人没有出声。
小男孩张开嘴又闭上，发出一种有趣的、小小的响声，于是他又这样做了一遍。张嘴。闭嘴。张嘴。闭嘴。
“不许那样做，西里尔，”姑妈说。“来看看窗外。”男孩闭上嘴靠窗而坐。他向外面的绿地和树木张望。
“为什么那个人把羊带出田地？”他突然问。
“可能他正带它们去另外一块草多的田地，”姑妈说。这不是一个很好的答案，男孩知道这一点。
“可是那块地里的草很多，”他说。“地里全是草，姑妈。为什么那个人不把羊留在那块地里呢？”“我想别的地里的草更好，”姑妈回答。
“为什么更好？”西里尔马上问。
“哎哟，看那些牛！”姑妈喊道。铁路沿线几乎所有的地里都是牛。西里尔不看牛，他想得到问题的答案。
“为什么别的地里的草更好？”他又说。
单身男人生气地看了他们一眼。姑妈看见了他，认为他是一个严厉、不和善的男人。他不喜欢孩子。她在思索西里尔问题的合适答案，但是没找到。
小女孩开始说歌词：
“在去曼德雷的路上，快乐的孩子在玩耍，”她开始说。
然后她停住了，她记不住更多的词，于是又说前面几句词，声音不大但很清楚。然后她又一遍又一遍地说这几句词。
单身男人生气地看着女孩，又生气地看着她的姑妈。
“到这儿来安静地坐着，”姑妈马上对孩子们说。”我给你们讲个故事。”
孩子们慢慢挪向姑妈的座位。他们已经感到无聊了。很明显姑妈不是讲故事的好手。
故事无聊透顶，是关于一个小女孩的。她不漂亮，但总是非常非常地乖。因为她乖所以每个人都喜欢她。最后，她掉进了湖里，她的朋友救了她，因为她太乖了，他们非常喜欢她。
“他们救她只是因为她乖吗？”大点的女孩问。“如果坏人掉进湖里，我们就不应该救他们吗？”单身男人想问同样的问题，只是没说出口。
“这个，是的，我们应该救，”姑妈说。“但我能肯定小女孩的朋友跑得飞快，因为他们太喜欢她了。”
“这是我听过的最蠢的故事，”大些的女孩说。
“我只听了前面几句，”西里尔说，“因为它太蠢。”
小女孩已经在第二十次轻声重复她的歌词。
“你的故事讲得不成功，”单身男人突然在他的一角说话了。
姑妈生气地看着他，很惊讶。“讲孩子们能懂的故事不容易，”她冷淡地回答。
“我不同意，”单身男人说。
“可能你想给他们讲个故事，”姑妈说。她对他冷冷地笑了笑。
“给我们讲个故事，”大女孩说。
“很久以前。”单身男人开始讲。“有一个小女孩叫伯莎，她出奇地好。在学校她的成绩总是很好。她总是听老师和家长的话。她从不迟到、邋遢，总是把菜吃光。她有礼貌、整洁而且从不说谎。”
“哦，”孩子们说。他们已经开始不耐烦了。
“她漂亮吗？”小女孩问。
“不，”单身男人说，“她不漂亮，但是她好得可怕。”
“好得可怕！我喜欢！”西里尔说。孩子们开始感兴趣了。把“可怕”和“好”这两个词放在一起对他们是个新鲜的说法，这提起了他们的兴致。
“伯莎总是很好，”单身男人继续说。“因为表现太好，伯莎得了三枚奖章，分别是'从不迟到'奖章，“礼貌'奖章和'世界上最好的孩子'奖章。奖章都很大，伯莎总是把它们戴在衣服上，走路时它们丁当作响。她是镇上唯一得了三枚奖章的孩子，因此每个人都知道她一定是个极好的孩子。”
“好得可怕，”西里尔高兴地重复。
“每人都谈论伯莎的好行为。国王听说了她，很高兴。'伯莎表现这么好，'他说，'每星期五下午她可以来我皇宫的花园里散步。'国王的花园很有名，很大，很漂亮，孩子们一般是不准进去的。”
“皇宫的花园里有羊吗？”西里尔问。
“没有，”单身男人说，“没有羊。”
“为什么没羊呢？”西里尔马上问。
姑妈轻轻一笑，满有兴趣地等着单身男人的回答。
单身男人解释说，“国王的花园里没有羊是因为国王的母亲曾经做过一个梦。在梦里一个声音对她说，'你的儿子会被羊杀死，或者被掉下的钟砸死。'所以国王从不在花园里养羊，从不在皇宫里放钟。”
姑妈暗自想这是个很聪明的回答，但她没说话。
“国王是被羊杀死的还是被钟砸死的？”大女孩问。
“他还活着，”单身男人平静地说。“因此我们不知道梦是真的还是假的。但是，虽然没有羊，有很多小猪在里面四处跑。”
“猪是什么颜色？”小女孩问。
“黑猪长着白脸，白猪长着黑脸，都是黑色、灰色和白色相间的，有一些是纯白色的猪。”
孩子们正想像着这些奇妙的图画时，单身男人停顿了片刻，然后他又继续讲；
“皇宫花园里没有花，伯莎觉得很不高兴。她向姑妈保证过她不会摘善良的国王的花。她很想表现好，信守诺言，因此当发现无花可摘时她很生气。”
“为什么没花？”
“因为猪把花都吃了，”单身男人立刻说。“园丁告诉过国王他不能既有猪又有花，因为猪吃花。于是国王决定
养猪，不种花。”
孩子们想这是个好主意。
“大多数人选择花，”西里尔说。他很高兴。“可是猪当然比花好得多。”
“皇宫的花园里还有很多其它好东西，”单身男人继续讲。“湖里有金色、蓝色和绿色的鱼。树上有会说话、会讲聪明事情的鸟。还有会唱流行歌曲的鸟。
“好啦，5月第一个星期五的下午，伯莎来到国王的花园。国王的士兵看见了她漂亮的白裙和她的三枚好品行奖章，于是他们马上打开了通往花园的门。
“伯莎来回散步，很开心。她走路时，漂亮白裙上的三枚奖章相互碰撞。她听见奖章的丁当声，想道：'我来到这漂亮的花园是因为我是世界上最好的孩子。'她愉快、幸福，感觉很好。
“正在这时一只很大的饿狼走进花园，它想捉一只小肥猪当晚餐。”
“狼是什么颜色？”孩子们问，他们都在非常感兴趣地听故事。
“是灰色的，”单身男人说，“长着黑舌头和发怒的黄眼睛，爪子又黑又长，黄牙又大又结实。狼饿了，它用灰色的长鼻子在地上闻味。它看见了伯莎漂亮干净的白裙，开始悄悄地向她走来。
“伯莎看见了狼，她希望她没来花园该多好。'哦，我为什么来这儿？'她想。'所有的坏孩子都安全地在家，我希望我不是个好得出奇的孩子！那么我也可以安全地呆在家里。'她拚命跑，狼用灰色的长腿紧追。
“终于伯莎跑到了一片散发着甜味的高大爱神木丛，她把自己藏在了浓密的树丛里。狼在树丛周围走了一圈又一圈，睁着发怒的黄眼睛，吐着又黑又长的舌头。但是它看不见伯莎，因为树丛太密。它闻不出她，因为爱神木的味太冲了。过了一会儿狼厌倦了，决定去抓只小猪当晚餐。
“伯莎吓坏了，她的心在急促跳动，她的身体因害怕而发抖。她的胳膊在抖，腿在抖，连三枚好品行奖章也在抖。奖章抖动时便发出了丁当的响声。狼正要离开时听见了奖章的丁当声，便停下来听。奖章又丁当作响。狼的黄眼睛闪着光，跑进爱神木丛，拖出了伯莎，吃了她。它吃掉了一切，只剩下她的鞋，她裙子的一些小碎片和三枚好品行奖章。”
“有哪只小猪被吃了吗？”西里尔问。
“没有，它们都跑了。”
“故事开头不好，”小女孩说。“但是结尾漂亮。”
“这是我听过的最精彩的故事，”大女孩说。
“这是我听过的唯一一个精彩的故事，”西里尔说。
姑妈不同意。“这是一个最不成体统的故事！”她生气地说。“你不能给孩子讲这样的故事！你破坏了多年的精心教育。”
“好吧，”单身男人说。他穿上
大衣提起包。“孩子们听故事时安静地坐了10分钟，他们这么做不是为了你。”
“我为那女人难过。”单身男人在下一站走下火车时想。“当那些孩子让她讲个不成体统的故事时人们会怎么想！”