揪出下一个文革的漏网之鱼# Joke - 肚皮舞运动
m*y
1 楼
马克吐温
这个奴隶主遗少转弯抹角的攻击南方新生革命政权，为奴隶经济搽脂抹粉。
在他笔下，奴隶和奴隶主亲如一家，打情骂俏，完全丧失了基本的阶级立场。
Jim came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals.
Bringing water from the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom’s
eyes, before, but now White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always
there waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling,
fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a
hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under
an hour – and even then somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said:
“Say, Jim, I’ll fetch the water if you’ll whitewash some.”
Jim shook his head and said:
“Can’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an’ git dis water
an’ not stop foolin’ roun’ wid anybody. She say she spec’ Mars Tom gwine
to ax me to whitewash, an’ so she tole me go ‘long an’ ‘tend to my own
business – she ‘lowed she’d ‘tend to de whitewashin’.”
“Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That’s the way she always talks.
Gimme the bucket – I won’t be gone only a a minute. She won’t ever know.”
“Oh, I dasn’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis she’d take an’ tar de head off’n me
. ‘Deed she would.”
“She! She never licks anybody – whacks ’em over the head with her thimble
– and who cares for that, I’d like to know. She talks awful, but talk don
’t hurt – anyways it don’t if she don’t cry. Jim, I’ll give you a
marvel. I’ll give you a white alley!”
Jim began to waver.
“White alley, Jim! And it’s a bully taw.”
“My! Dat’s a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I’s powerful ‘
fraid ole missis – ”
“And besides, if you will I’ll show you my sore toe.”
Jim was only human – this attraction was too much for him. He put down his
pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing interest
while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was flying down
the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing with
vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with a slipper in her hand
and triumph in her eye.
Illustration from Tom Sawyer
Courtesy The Mark Twain House, Hartford
He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in sight
presently – the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading.
Ben’s gait was the hop-skip-and-jump – proof enough that his heart was
light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and giving a long,
melodious whoop, at inte
这个奴隶主遗少转弯抹角的攻击南方新生革命政权，为奴隶经济搽脂抹粉。
在他笔下，奴隶和奴隶主亲如一家，打情骂俏，完全丧失了基本的阶级立场。
Jim came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals.
Bringing water from the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom’s
eyes, before, but now White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always
there waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling,
fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a
hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under
an hour – and even then somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said:
“Say, Jim, I’ll fetch the water if you’ll whitewash some.”
Jim shook his head and said:
“Can’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an’ git dis water
an’ not stop foolin’ roun’ wid anybody. She say she spec’ Mars Tom gwine
to ax me to whitewash, an’ so she tole me go ‘long an’ ‘tend to my own
business – she ‘lowed she’d ‘tend to de whitewashin’.”
“Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That’s the way she always talks.
Gimme the bucket – I won’t be gone only a a minute. She won’t ever know.”
“Oh, I dasn’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis she’d take an’ tar de head off’n me
. ‘Deed she would.”
“She! She never licks anybody – whacks ’em over the head with her thimble
– and who cares for that, I’d like to know. She talks awful, but talk don
’t hurt – anyways it don’t if she don’t cry. Jim, I’ll give you a
marvel. I’ll give you a white alley!”
Jim began to waver.
“White alley, Jim! And it’s a bully taw.”
“My! Dat’s a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I’s powerful ‘
fraid ole missis – ”
“And besides, if you will I’ll show you my sore toe.”
Jim was only human – this attraction was too much for him. He put down his
pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing interest
while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was flying down
the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing with
vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with a slipper in her hand
and triumph in her eye.
Illustration from Tom Sawyer
Courtesy The Mark Twain House, Hartford
He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in sight
presently – the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading.
Ben’s gait was the hop-skip-and-jump – proof enough that his heart was
light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and giving a long,
melodious whoop, at inte