Daddy⁃Long⁃Legs (Excerpt)《长腿叔叔》（节选）

琼·韦伯斯特（Jean Webster，1876—1916），美国人，1876年生于纽约州弗里多尼亚的一个富裕家庭，父亲是出版商，母亲是美国著名作家马克·吐温的侄女。1901年，她毕业于瓦萨学院，获英国文学和经济学两个学位。她的第一本短篇小说集《帕蒂去上大学的时候》写于在校期间，1903年出版后大获成功。之后，《长腿叔叔》（1912）和续集《亲爱的敌人》（1914）的问世使她成了家喻户晓的作家。她的作品朴实、清新、充满幽默和对社会下层阶级的关爱。

《长腿叔叔》是一部著名的作品，发表于1912年。孤女杰露莎·艾伯特从小在孤儿院里长大，她不得不承担起众多沉重的工作，而不能享受普通女孩拥有的家庭乐趣。有一天，她的命运传奇般地被改变了，孤儿院的一位理事因为她出色的作文而愿意匿名资助她上大学，她开始了完全不同的生活。她亲昵地称这位理事为“长腿叔叔”。

本文节选自琼·韦伯斯特的《长腿叔叔》，节选时有删改。

The first Wednesday in every monthwas a perfectly awful day—a day to beawaited with dread， endured with courageand forgotten with haste. Every floor mustbe spotless， every chair dustless， andevery bed without a wrinkle. Ninety⁃sevenlittle orphans （孤儿） must be scrubbed，combed and buttoned into freshly starchedginghams （刚上浆的格子布）; and all ninety⁃seven were reminded of their manners， andtold to say“ Yes， sir”，“ No， sir” whenevera trustee spoke.

It was a distressing time， and poorJerusha Abbott， being the oldest orphan，had to bear the brunt of it. But this particu⁃lar first Wednesday， like its predecessors，finally dragged itself to a close. Jerushaescaped from the pantry where she hadbeen making sandwiches for the asylum’sguests， and turned upstairs to accomplish her regular work. Her special care wasroom F， where eleven little children， fromfour to seven， occupied eleven little bedsset in a row. Jerusha assembled hercharges， straightened their clothes， wipedtheir noses， and started them in an orderlyand willing line towards the dining room toengage themselves for a blessed half⁃hourwith bread and milk and prune pudding.

Then she dropped down on the windowseat and leaned temples （太阳穴） againstthe cool glass. She had been on her feetsince five that morning， doing everybody’sbidding， scolded and hurried by a nervousmatron. Mrs Lippett， behind the scenes，did not always maintain that calm anddignity with which she faced an audienceof trustees and lady visitors. Jerusha gazedout across a broad stretch of frozen lawn，beyond the tall iron paling that marked theconfines of the asylum， down undulatingridges sprinkled with country estates， tothe spires of the village rising from themidst of bare trees.

The day was ended—quite success?fully， so far as she knew. The trustees andthe visiting committee had made theirrounds， and read their reports， and drunktheir tea， and now were hurrying home totheir own cheerful firesides， to forget theirbothersome little charges for anothermonth. Jerusha leaned forward watchingwith curiosity—and a touch of wistful⁃ness—the stream of carriages and automo⁃biles that rolled out of the asylum gates. Inimagination she followed first one equi⁃page， then another， to the big housesdotted along the hillside. She picturedherself in a fur coat and a velvet hattrimmed with feathers leaning back in theseat and nonchalantly murmuring“ Home”to the driver. But on the doorsill of herhome the picture grew blurred.

Jerusha had an imagination， MrsLippett told her， that would get her intotrouble if she didn’t take care—but keenas it was， it could not carry her beyond thefront porch of the houses she would enter.Poor， eager， adventurous little Jerusha， inall her seventeen years， had never steppedinside an ordinary house; she could notpicture the daily routine of those otherhuman beings who carried on their livesundisturbed by orphans.

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