Chapter 1
Springtime à la Carte(（法）菜单上的春天)
It was a day in March.
Never, never begin a story this way when you write one.
No opening could possibly be worse.
It is unimaginative(缺乏想象力的), flat, dry and likely to consist of(包含) mere wind.
But in this instance it is allowable.
For the following paragraph, which should have inaugurated(引出) the narrative(描述), is too wildly extravagant(不切实际的) and preposterous(荒唐的) to be flaunted(卖弄) in the face of the reader without preparation.
Sarah was crying over her bill of fare.
Think of a New York girl shedding tears on the menu card!
To account for this you will be allowed to guess that the lobsters(龙虾) were all out, or that she had sworn ice-cream off(保证弃绝)during Lent, or that she had ordered onions, or that she had just come from a Hackett matinée(（法）日场演出).
And then, all these theories being wrong, you will please let the story proceed.
The gentleman who announced that the world was an oyster(牡蛎) which he with his sword would open made a larger hit than he deserved.
It is not difficult to open an oyster with a sword.
But did you ever notice any one try to open the terrestrial(陆地的)bivalve(双壳贝类) with a typewriter?
Like to wait for a dozen raw opened that way?
Sarah had managed to(成功做成（某事）) pry(撬开) apart the shells(壳) with her unhandy weapon(工具) far enough to nibble(轻咬) a wee(很小的) bit at the cold and clammy(潮湿的)world within.
She knew no more shorthand(速记法) than if she had been a graduate in stenography(速记) just let slip upon the world by a business college.
So, not being able to stenog, she could not enter that bright galaxy of(一群) office talent.
She was a free-lance(自由职业的) typewriter and canvassed(招揽) for odd(各种各样的) jobs of copying.
The most brilliant and crowning(完美的) feat(功绩) of Sarah’s battle with the world was the deal she made with Schulenberg’s Home Restaurant.
The restaurant was next door to the old red brick in which she hall-roomed.
One evening after dining at Schulenberg’s 40-cent, five-course table d’hôte(（法）定价套餐) (served as fast as you throw the five baseballs at the colored gentleman’s head) Sarah took away with her the bill of fare.
It was written in an almost unreadable script(笔迹) neither English nor German, and so arranged that if you were not careful you began with a toothpick and rice pudding(布丁) and ended with soup and the day of the week.
The next day Sarah showed Schulenberg a neat card on which the menu was beautifully typewritten with the viands(食物)temptingly(诱人地) marshaled(被排列) under their right and proper heads from “hors d’oeuvre(（法）餐前开胃小吃)” to “not responsible for overcoats and umbrellas.”
Schulenberg became a naturalized citizen on the spot.
Before Sarah left him she had him willingly committed to(保证（签署）) an agreement.
She was to furnish typewritten bills of fare for the twenty-one tables in the restaurant—a new bill for each day’s dinner, and new ones for breakfast and lunch as often as changes occurred in the food or as neatness required.
In return for this Schulenberg was to send three meals per diem(（拉丁语）每天) to Sarah’s hall room by a waiter—an obsequious(奉承拍马的) one if possible—and furnish her each afternoon with a pencil draft of what Fate had in store for Schulenberg’s customers on the morrow(次日).
Chapter 1
Springtime à la Carte(（法）菜单上的春天)
It was a day in March.
Never, never begin a story this way when you write one.
No opening could possibly be worse.
It is unimaginative(缺乏想象力的), flat, dry and likely to consist of(包含) mere wind.
But in this instance it is allowable.
For the following paragraph, which should have inaugurated(引出) the narrative(描述), is too wildly extravagant(不切实际的) and preposterous(荒唐的) to be flaunted(卖弄) in the face of the reader without preparation.
Sarah was crying over her bill of fare.
Think of a New York girl shedding tears on the menu card!
To account for this you will be allowed to guess that the lobsters(龙虾) were all out, or that she had sworn ice-cream off(保证弃绝)during Lent, or that she had ordered onions, or that she had just come from a Hackett matinée(（法）日场演出).
And then, all these theories being wrong, you will please let the story proceed.
The gentleman who announced that the world was an oyster(牡蛎) which he with his sword would open made a larger hit than he deserved.
It is not difficult to open an oyster with a sword.
But did you ever notice any one try to open the terrestrial(陆地的)bivalve(双壳贝类) with a typewriter?
Like to wait for a dozen raw opened that way?
Sarah had managed to(成功做成（某事）) pry(撬开) apart the shells(壳) with her unhandy weapon(工具) far enough to nibble(轻咬) a wee(很小的) bit at the cold and clammy(潮湿的)world within.
She knew no more shorthand(速记法) than if she had been a graduate in stenography(速记) just let slip upon the world by a business college.
So, not being able to stenog, she could not enter that bright galaxy of(一群) office talent.
She was a free-lance(自由职业的) typewriter and canvassed(招揽) for odd(各种各样的) jobs of copying.
The most brilliant and crowning(完美的) feat(功绩) of Sarah’s battle with the world was the deal she made with Schulenberg’s Home Restaurant.
The restaurant was next door to the old red brick in which she hall-roomed.
One evening after dining at Schulenberg’s 40-cent, five-course table d’hôte(（法）定价套餐) (served as fast as you throw the five baseballs at the colored gentleman’s head) Sarah took away with her the bill of fare.
It was written in an almost unreadable script(笔迹) neither English nor German, and so arranged that if you were not careful you began with a toothpick and rice pudding(布丁) and ended with soup and the day of the week.
The next day Sarah showed Schulenberg a neat card on which the menu was beautifully typewritten with the viands(食物)temptingly(诱人地) marshaled(被排列) under their right and proper heads from “hors d’oeuvre(（法）餐前开胃小吃)” to “not responsible for overcoats and umbrellas.”
Schulenberg became a naturalized citizen on the spot.
Before Sarah left him she had him willingly committed to(保证（签署）) an agreement.
She was to furnish typewritten bills of fare for the twenty-one tables in the restaurant—a new bill for each day’s dinner, and new ones for breakfast and lunch as often as changes occurred in the food or as neatness required.
In return for this Schulenberg was to send three meals per diem(（拉丁语）每天) to Sarah’s hall room by a waiter—an obsequious(奉承拍马的) one if possible—and furnish her each afternoon with a pencil draft of what Fate had in store for Schulenberg’s customers on the morrow(次日).
Mutual(双方的) satisfaction resulted from the agreement.
Schulenberg’s patrons(顾客) now knew what the food they ate was called even if its nature sometimes puzzled them.
And Sarah had food during a cold, dull winter, which was the main thing with her.
And then the almanac(年历) lied, and said that spring had come.
Spring comes when it comes.
The frozen snows of January still lay like adamant(硬石) in the cross-town streets.
The hand-organs(手风琴) still played “In the Good Old Summertime”, with their December vivacity(活力) and expression.
Men began to make thirty-day notes to buy Easter dresses.
Janitors(门房) shut off(关掉)steam.
And when these things happen one may know that the city is still in the clutches(控制) of winter.
One afternoon Sarah shivered(颤抖) in her elegant hall-bedroom; “house heated; scrupulously(非常) clean; conveniences; seen to be appreciated.”
She had no work to do except Schulenberg’s menu cards.
Sarah sat in her squeaky(嘎吱响的) willow rocker(柳条摇椅), and looked out the window.
The calendar on the wall kept crying to her: “Springtime is here, Sarah—springtime is here, I tell you.
Look at me, Sarah, my figures show it.
You’ve got a neat figure yourself, Sarah—a—nice springtime figure—why do you look out the window so sadly?”
Sarah’s room was at the back of the house.
Looking out the window she could see the windowless rear(后部的) brick wall of the box factory on the next street.
But the wall was clearest crystal(水晶); and Sarah was looking down a grassy lane(小路) shaded with cherry(樱桃) trees and elms and bordered with raspberry(山莓) bushes and Cherokee roses(金樱子).
Spring’s real harbingers(先兆) are too subtle(微妙的) for the eye and ear.
Some must have the flowering crocus(藏红花), the wood-starring dogwood(梾木), the voice of bluebird(蓝知更鸟)—even so gross(明显的) a reminder as the farewell(告别) handshake of the retiring buckwheat(荞麦) and oyster before they can welcome the Lady in Green to their dull bosoms(怀抱).
But to old earth’s choicest kin(亲属关系) there come straight, sweet messages from his newest bride, telling them they shall be no stepchildren(被冷落的人) unless they choose to be.
On the previous summer Sarah had gone into the country and loved a farmer.
(In writing your story never hark back(追忆过去) thus. It is bad art, and cripples(削弱)interest. Let it march, march. )
Sarah stayed two weeks at Sunnybrook Farm.
There she learned to love old Farmer Franklin’s son, Walter.
Farmers have been loved and wedded and turned out to grass in less time.
But young Walter Franklin was a modern agriculturist.
He had a telephone in his cow-house, and he could figure up exactly what effect next year’s Canada wheat crop would have on potatoes planted in the dark of the moon.
It was in this shaded and raspberried lane that Walter had wooed and won her.
And together they had sat and woven(编织) a crown(王冠) of dandelions(蒲公英) for her hair.
He had immoderately(极度) praised the effect of the yellow blossoms(花朵) against her brown tresses(长发); and she had left the chaplet(花冠) there, and walked back to the house swinging her straw sailor in her hands.
They were to marry in the spring—at the very first signs of spring, Walter said.
And Sarah came back to the city to pound her typewriter.
DAY 1
1shed /ʃed/
n. 棚屋； vt. 流出；流下； vi. 流出；蜕皮；脱落
2
shell /ʃel/
n. 甲壳
3
weapon /ˈwepən/
n. 武器，兵器
4
odd /ɑːd/
adj. 奇数的，奇怪的，古怪的
5
crown /kraʊn/
n. 王冠；冕；花冠； v. 加冕
6
script /skrɪpt/
c. 剧本
7
commit /kəˈmɪt/
vt. 委托；监禁；把…关进；犯罪
8
mutual /ˈmjuːtʃuəl/
adj. 相互的，共同的
9
shiver /ˈʃɪvər/
n. 颤抖, 打战 vi. 颤抖, 打战; vt. 颤动
10
lane /leɪn/
c. 小路
11
gross /ɡroʊs/
adj. 总的，毛的，严重的，恶心的，粗鲁的； adv. 总共； v. 总收入为
12
farewell /ˌferˈwel/
n. 再见；告别，离别； adj. 告别的
13
weave /wiːv/
n. 织法，织物； vi. 织布； vt. 织，编织，编进
14
moderate /ˈmɑdərət/
adj. 适度的，适中的
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