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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
On an island so far north that it snowed from September to April, a boy named Frederik kept himself warm by keeping a secret. Some mornings, the top of the water in the kitchen jug1 had frozen into a disc of ice. Frederik had to smash it with a wooden spoon. He piled the pieces of ice in a saucer, reminded of the way that harbor ice broke up in a thaw2. Small ice made musical clinking sounds. Large ice groaned4 like his mother. Not dawn, not yet! she protested through her morning congestion5. The troubles of another day come to haunt me. Where are you, my sweet ginger6 biscuit?
I'm making your tea to warm you up, replied Frederik. He hurried to light the kitchen fire. Money was scarce, and this was the last match until his mother could afford to buy more, so he struck it carefully. The warmth on his fingers made him want - quick - to use them to make something clever before they became stiff with cold, again. His fingers were the only clever part of him.
My useful child, said the widow Pedersen. Tea on a cold morning - a reason to live. But this? She grimaced9, Pfaah! It's thin as rainwater. Have you made one scoop10 of leaves do for a whole pot?
The canister is nearly empty.
It's Christmas Eve. I'm paid today. I'll buy some more.
We need matches, too.
As Dame11 Pedersen and Frederik folded the bedding, their breath whisped in the chilly12 room. Look, it's a pair of ghosts.
That's all that'll be left of us, a pair of ghosts, unless you succeed today.
The Pedersens lived in a couple of rooms tacked13 onto a herring smoke house on an island in the harbor. From their threshold, Frederik looked across the water to the prosperous city on the mainland. The town was bedecked with necklaces of evergreen14. Setting out across the low stone causeway that joined island to mainland, Frederik caught a whiff of a goose roasting for a holiday luncheon15. As fishermen emptied their nets of herring or skrat or mackerel, gulls16 filched17 from the day's catch. If Frederik could startle a scavenger18 into dropping a fish, why, there was the beginning of supper. The fishermen didn't begrudge19 Frederik stealing from seagulls.
When fish were few, Frederik searched for bits of beautiful trash. Anything he might use for his secret. His mother didn't suspect a thing. Every night when she came home from the palace, she was a seamstress for the Queen, Dame Pedersen fried the fish, and then plunged20 under the warm coverlet to do her mending there. The Queen had a heavy foot and always stepped on her own hems21, so every evening, Frederik's mother reached for her basket of threads, all wrapped tightly on wooden spools22. Even on Christmas Eve, she plied7 her needle. She stitched while Frederik washed up.
As soon as she nodded off over her scissors, Frederik scampered23 up the ladder to his attic24. The room reeked25 with the salt tang of the sea and the sweet rawness of the smokehouse. He didn't mind. This was his room, to which his mother in her exhaustion26 could never manage to climb. Here he was not fish-thief, but governor.
(Soundbite of music)
On the planks27 of the attic floor waited Frederik's secret, a town hunched28 on an island. The houses were made of empty boxes that he'd lifted from a shopkeepers' rubbish bins29. Frederik cut out windows and folded the cardboard - perfect hinged shutters30. He built eaves out of slates31 that the wind had liberated32 from real roofs. He planted trees by poking33 sprigs of balsam into dollops of boat caulking34. Best was the customs house - a gold-papered chocolate gift box sporting a porcelain35 dome36.
Frederik's town boasted only two residents - two threadless, wooden spools with heads made out of acorns37. They seemed eager to invite other people to their town, but Frederik didn't know where to find any. Frederik had decided38 that the residents should go sailing to hunt for more family. Next, he would need a boat.
(Soundbite of knocking on the door)
When someone pounded at the door, his mother started from her nap. Merciful angels! Have the seagulls grown fists? Frederik reached the door first.
The visitor said to Dame Pedersen, Our Queen has ripped her cloak on her way to the Christmas Eve ceremonies. She's to preside over prayers and feast and frolic of all varieties; so she demands you come with your supplies! But dress snug39. Ice is even forming on the harbor.
You would think the Queen has toes of lead, said Dame Pedersen. She can't see a hem8 without stepping on it. Still, the hungry rarely get a holiday, so I will come.
You're a good woman, to venture out in this cursed cold. On Christmas Eve I'd rather be home with my wife or my grog.
But Dame Pedersen turned to Frederik. Dear boy, I've never left you at night before. Will you be safe? Frederik nodded.
So Dame Pedersen left, muttering to the coachman: One of God's simples, that boy - can't find his way from soap to water. I hate to leave him alone on Christmas Eve.
Frederik waited until the sound of hooves had faded, and then he wrapped himself in a scarf. His townspeople needed to sail to lonely souls and invite them to live on their island. So Frederik would locate a boat.
(Soundbite of music)
In a lane off the main square, a small girl shivered in her threadbare shawl. All day, she had been hoping to sell the matches in her apron40 pocket. All day long she had sung, Light your tapers41 on Christmas Eve with a new match! But she hadn't sold a single match, and by nighttime, her voice had shriveled. Matches, I have matches for sale. She didn't dare go home without a single coin. And home held no warmth, anyway, not since the death of her mother. She wandered this way and that - how crowded the streets were this late on Christmas Eve! As she was crossing the boulevard, a pair of horses dragging a coach raced by. The girl dashed out of their way. The slippers43 that had belonged to her mother - they were too loose, but all the girl had left of her - they fell off. A carter's donkey claimed one slipper42 for its supper. Oh, cried the match girl, Oh! The other slipper might keep one foot warm, she thought, but as she went to retrieve44 it, a boy about her age was picking it up. This will make a fine cradle for my babies! and ran off into the darkness so quickly that he never heard her voice calling after him.
The crowds thinned and disappeared. Alone, the match girl tucked herself into an alley45, out of the wind, but not the cold. She couldn't go home. And she couldn't sell any matches. So what was there left to do, but strike one, to relish46 the light? She lit it - warmth for the tip of her nose, at least - and the tiny blaze confused her eyes. She thought she saw an iron stove with brass47 trimmings, the coal door open so the heat could escape. She reached for it, and the match went out. She crouched48, half asleep, till a church bell rang.
(Soundbite of bell ringing)
It was a quarter to midnight. So she lit another match, and in the flare49 she saw a roast goose on a platter, amid silverware and crystal and creamy napery. Oh, goose, she called, and it rose on its roasted legs and walked across the table toward her, the knife and fork in its back waggling in a comical way. She laughed, and put her hand to her mouth, but the match burned out, and the goose disappeared, and the pretty table with it.
Come back! She struck a third match. This time, a Christmas tree rose high above her. She craned her head to see the pine boughs50 laden51 with glass ornaments52 and with candles shining bright as stars. The highest candle served as the beacon53, but then it streaked54 earthward. Mother said when a star falls, it means a soul is going up to God, so someone is dying, she remembered.
(Soundbite of bell ringing)
Then midnight chimed, and the thought of her mother cheered her so that the little girl struck another match. In the flinty light, she saw her mother who lived in heaven, but who now leaned forward with her smile, her bright and matchless eyes. As the vision faded, the match girl despaired, and she lit match after match to hold the vision. Mother looked so inviting55, and then her warm arms were around her daughter. And the mother took her home to the sky, where the stars shine like matches that can never be extinguished.
(Soundbite of song "Little Match Girl Passion")
Mr. MAGUIRE: Frederik got home in time to stir the fire before the coals went out, which was lucky, for he had no way to start a new fire. When his mother returned, she said, I'd have stopped to buy matches with the Queen's bonus, but I saw no vendors56 at work this late on Christmas Eve. Now, off to your attic. I'll stay by the stove and keep the fire alive till Christmas morn. But, sitting to take off her shoes, she leaned against a pillow and immediately fell asleep.
All night, Frederik sat nodding by the stove. Sometimes he imagined climbing into a comfortable shoe and sailing off to find a more hospitable57 place to live, a place where the poor did not shiver so, and the hungry could find enough to eat, and the children had all the parents they needed. Whenever a coal tumbled, startling him, he tended the fire with a poker58, managing to keep the room tolerably warm until dawn.
(Soundbite of music)
Christmas Day, my dimpled dumpling! Oh, la - precious oranges, and anise cookies, and fragrant59 dust of nutmeg to stir in their morning milk. While Dame Pedersen dawdled60 over her tea, Frederik hurried upstairs to arrange his little folk in their new boat and help them set sail to find their necessary neighbors and kin3.
Setting the slipper down, however, he shook something in it loose. An iron key with a paper tag attached. Now Frederik guessed that the shoe had been lost by accident. Since he couldn't understand his letters, he plunged downstairs to ask his mother to read the tag. It was an address.
An invitation? wondered Frederick.
A nuisance, said his mother, but he pestered61 her until she was overcome. She knew he couldn't find an address on his own, so they made their way, hand in hand across the causeway and through quiet streets to locate the address attached to the key.
(Soundbite of music)
When you've never heard its like before, it is hard to recognize the sound of human grief. At first Frederik thought it was seagulls, but his mother insisted, We have come at an unfortunate moment. Frederik darted62 ahead anyway. He pressed through a crowd of neighbors, and he climbed a steep staircase to a room over a warehouse63. There he found a frozen girl lying on a table, and her father fitfully rocking nearby, his eyes shut.
Who are you? asked a busybody neighbor. And what business have you, coming here in his time of sorrow?
Last night I found this in a lost slipper, Frederik held up the key.
The gossipy neighbor wondered aloud, Was this why the girl had not returned? Had she lost her key? And her father, living so high above the warehouse, would never have heard her knocking. He had been out of his mind with work and worry, tending his two babies who squalled with the consumption that had already claimed his wife, and now, it seemed, had stolen his daughter, too.
When Dame Pedersen arrived, puffing64 from the effort, she covered Frederik's face with her apron, while grim-eyed men carried the girl's body away for a pauper's burial. Frederik's mother motioned that it was time to leave, but then she caught sight of one of the sick babies, grey as bad bacon in the morning light. She had the poor thing to her bosom65 before she knew what she was doing, so Frederik cradled the other one as best he could.
As they held the children, their own family began to change, though they didn't see it at the moment. When the new year was scarcely a week old, Dame Pedersen helped the match girl's father to secure a position as the new coachman to the Queen. And before the year was halfway66 old, Dame Pedersen had married the man and invited him and his two frail67 daughters to share the rooms behind the smokehouse. The family was still hard pressed for money, and dreamed of savory68 treats to eat, but they had the warmth of each other and enough on which to live, and in most parts of the world, that is called plenty.
(Soundbite of music)
As the year surged on, the Queen continued stamping on her hems. There were gowns to be mended every night. The following Christmas Eve, Frederik's mother decided to spend the night at the palace, leaving her new husband to keep the stove fire burning. She brought her needles and threads, but distracted by kissing her three children, she forget to take her supper. Frederik offered to carry the meal to his mother. I can find my way, he promised his stepfather. His delighted mother applauded his success at finding the palace, and in holiday spirits, the Queen lunged to hand three pieces of marzipan to Frederik, ripping a royal seam as she did.
Hurrying home that Christmas Eve, however, Frederik grew uncertain. An unseasonal thaw was wreathing the city in a clammy mist, disguising the landmarks69 on which Frederik relied. Tonight, it seemed as if all the ghosts of all who had died since last year had risen one last time to see in the holy day. Frederik wasn't frightened of ghosts, and though the world was masked with vapor70, eventually he found the causeway.
Starting across, he heard a belligerent71 sound. He recognized it as plates of ice jamming in the mouth of the harbor channel, grinding their cold edges against one another. With the outlet72 plugged, and the snow melting, the harbor water was rising. Inches of seawater flooded the causeway. He stood still. He couldn't see his way forward along the causeway, nor could he retrace73 his steps. A false step would drown him, and no boat in the shape of a mother's slipper would come sidling up to rescue him.
Oh, he prayed aloud, let me get home to my sisters! I have marzipan fruits for them! The water lapped higher as bells began to ring in the muffling74 fog. He blinked, and then he saw a little light, a momentary75 flare held out by an invisible hand. He reached toward it, and the light went out. But, look, another, several feet beyond, so he took a step forward. A third flame winked76 beyond that, and then a fourth. Small brief lights, but helpful as matches struck just in time. And Frederik followed the chain of evanescent stars across the dark water to safety.
Some people know better than to announce if a little light has appeared to them. Frederik didn't confide77 in his mother when she returned the next morning with pastries78 and lingonberry jam. He wanted to tell his stepfather there were reasons not to be sad on this Christmas anniversary. But he didn't know how. Instead, he said to his sisters, Eat up your marzipan. I have a surprise upstairs to show you. Then he carried both girls up the ladder, to share with them his secret town, whose population had enjoyed a marked increase over the past year. His sisters clapped their hands, unaware79 that high above them, even in the daylight, exists a population of stars.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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congestion
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| n.阻塞，消化不良 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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13
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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15
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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17
filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scavenger
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| n.以腐尸为食的动物，清扫工 | |
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begrudge
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| vt.吝啬，羡慕 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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21
hems
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| 布的褶边，贴边( hem的名词复数 )； 短促的咳嗽 | |
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22
spools
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| n.（绕线、铁线、照相软片等的）管( spool的名词复数 )；络纱；纺纱机；绕圈轴工人v.把…绕到线轴上（或从线轴上绕下来）( spool的第三人称单数 )；假脱机（输出或输入） | |
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23
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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27
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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bins
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| n.大储藏箱( bin的名词复数 )；宽口箱（如面包箱，垃圾箱等）v.扔掉，丢弃( bin的第三人称单数 ) | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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31
slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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34
caulking
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| n.堵缝；敛缝；捻缝；压紧v.堵（船的）缝( caulk的现在分词 )；泥…的缝；填塞；使不漏水 | |
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35
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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38
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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39
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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40
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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41
tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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42
slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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43
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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44
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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45
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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46
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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47
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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48
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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50
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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51
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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52
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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54
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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56
vendors
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| n.摊贩( vendor的名词复数 )；小贩；（房屋等的）卖主；卖方 | |
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57
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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58
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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60
dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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63
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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64
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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65
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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66
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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67
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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68
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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69
landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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70
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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71
belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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72
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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73
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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74
muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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75
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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76
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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77
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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78
pastries
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| n.面粉制的糕点 | |
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79
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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