马斯格雷夫礼典01（在线收听）

The Musgrave Ritual

Arthur Conan Doyle

An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes  was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most  methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of  dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men  that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least  conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan,  coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather  more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I  find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end  of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack- knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give  myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be  distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors,  would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges,  and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet- pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our  room was improved by it.

Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a  way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish  or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a  horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his  past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster  energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these  incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the  remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of  lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly  moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers  accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of  manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put  away save by their owner.

马斯格雷夫礼典

我的朋友歇洛克-福尔摩斯的一性一格有一点与众不同的地方，经常使我烦恼。虽然他的思 想方法敏锐过人，有条有理，着装朴素而整洁，可是他的生活一习一惯却杂乱无章，使同住 的人感到心烦。我自己在这方面也并不是无可指责的。我在阿富汗时那种乱糟糟的工作，还 有放一荡不羁的一性一情，已使我相当马虎，不是一个医生应有的样子。但对我来说总是有 个限度。当我看到一个人把烟卷放在煤斗里，把烟叶放在波斯拖鞋顶部，而一些尚未答复的 信件却被他用一把大折刀插在木制壁炉台正中时，我便开始觉得自己还怪不错的呢。此外， 我总认为，手槍练一习一显然应当是一种户外消遣，而福尔摩斯一时兴之所至，便坐在一把 扶手椅中，用他那手槍和一百匣子弹，以维多利亚女王的一爱一国主义一精一神，用弹痕把 对面墙上装饰得星罗棋布，我深深感到，这既不能改善我们室内的气氛，又不能改善房屋的 外观。

我们的房里经常塞满了化学药品和罪犯的遗物，而这些东西经常放在意料不到的地方，有时 突然在黄油盘里，或甚至在更不令人注意的地方出现，可是他的文件却是我最大的难题。他 最不喜欢销毁文件，特别是那些与他过去办案有关的文件，他每一两年只有一次集中一精一 力去归纳处理它们。因为，正如我在这些支离破碎的回忆录里有些地方曾经提到的一样，当 他建立了卓越的功勋因而扬名时，他才会有这种一精一力。但这种热情旋即消失，随之而来 的是反映异常冷漠，在此期间，他每日与小提琴和书籍为伍，除了从沙发到桌旁以外几乎一 动也不动。这样月复一月，他的文件越积越多，屋里每个角落都堆放着一捆捆的手稿，他决 不肯烧毁，而且除了他本人外，谁也不准把它们挪动一寸。