英文故事_The Gift of the Magi(附理解练习)

The Gift of the Magi

It was Christmas, and Della and Jim wanted to give each other special gifts.

They had no extra money, but they each could sacrifice something dear.

Once dollar and eighty

–

seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in

pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bargaining with the grocer and the

vegetable man and the butcher. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eight

–

seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and

howl.

So

Della

did

it.

Which

instigates

the

moral

reflection

that

life

is

made

up

of

sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the

second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $$8 per week. It did not exactly

beggar description, but rather looked as if it were

“

begging.

”

In the doorway below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an

electric

button

from

which

no

mortal

finger

could

coax

a

ring.

Also

appertaining

thereunto was a card bearing the name

“

Mr. James Dillingham Young.

”

But whenever

Mr.

James

Dillingham

Young

came

home

and

reached

his

flat

above

he

was

called

“

Jim

”

and greatly hugged by Mr. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you

as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheek with the powder rag. She stood

by the window and looked out dully at the gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray

backyard.

Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $$1.87 with which to buy

Jim

a

present.

She

had

been

saving

every

penny

she

could

for

months,

with

this

result. Twenty dollars a week doesn

’

t go far. Expenses had been greater than she had

calculated. They always are. Only $$1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a

happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and

rare and sterling

–

something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of

being Jim

’

s wife.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the mirror. Her eyes

were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly

she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Young

’

s in which they

both took a mighty pride. One was Jim

’

s gold watch that had been his father

’

s and

his grandfather

’

s. The other was Della

’

s hair. Had the Queen of Sheba lived the flat

across the way, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry

just to depreciate Her Majesty

’

s jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor,

with

all

his

treasures

piled

up

in

the

basement,

Jim

would

have

pulled

his

watch

every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della

’

s beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of

brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her.

And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute

and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket, on went on old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts

and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eye, she fluttered out the door and down the

stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read:

“

Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All kinds.

”

One

flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting, Madame, large, too white, chilly,

hardly looked the

“< /p>

Sofronie.

”

“

Will you buy my hair?

”

asked Della.

“

I buy hair,

”

said Madame.

“

Take yet hat off the let

’

s have a sight at the looks of

it.

”

Down rippled the brown cascade.

“

Twenty dollars,

”

said Madame, lifting the mass with a practiced hand.

Oh,

and

the

next

two

hours

tripped

by

on

rosy

wings.

Forget

the

hashed

metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim

’

s present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was

no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was

a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by

substance alone. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew

that it must be Jim

’

s.

It was like him. Quietness and value

–

the description applied

to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the

87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time

in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly

on

account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When

Della

reached

home

her

intoxication

gave

way

a

little

to

prudence

and

reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing

the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task,

dear friends

–

a mammoth task.

Within

forty

minutes

her

head

was

covered

with

tiny,

close-lying

curls

that

made

her

look

wonderfully

like

a

schoolboy.

She

looked

at

her

reflection

in

the

mirror long, carefully, and critically.

“

If Jim

doesn’t

kill me,

”

she said to herself,

“

before he takes a second look at me,

he

’

ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do

–

oh! What could I

do with a dollar and eight- seven cents?

”

At

7

o

’

clock

the

coffee

was

made

and

the

frying-pan

was

on

the

back

of

the

stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim

was

never

late.

Della

doubled

the

fob

chain

in

her

hand

and

sat

on

the

corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on

the stair way down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She

had

a

habit

of

saying

little

silent

prayers

about

the

simplest

everyday

things,

and

now she whispered:

“

Please God, make him think I am still pretty.

”

The

door

opened

and

Jim

stepped

in

and

closed

it.

He

looked

thin

and

very

serious Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two and to be burdened with a family! He

needed a new overcoat and he was with gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His

eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not

read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror,

nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simple stared at her

fixedly with at peculiar expression on his face. Della wriggled off the table and went

for him.

“

Jim, daring.

”

She cried,

“

do

n’

t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and

sold it because I

couldn’t

have lived through Christmas without giving you a present.

It

’

ll grow out again

–

you won

’

t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows