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A Tramp Abroad
CHAPTER III - Baker's Bluejay Yarn - What Stumped the Blue Jays
Mark Twain
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       _ "When I first begun to understand jay language correctly,
       there was a little incident happened here. Seven years ago,
       the last man in this region but me moved away. There stands
       his house--been empty ever since; a log house, with a plank
       roof--just one big room, and no more; no ceiling--nothing
       between the rafters and the floor. Well, one Sunday
       morning I was sitting out here in front of my cabin,
       with my cat, taking the sun, and looking at the blue hills,
       and listening to the leaves rustling so lonely in the trees,
       and thinking of the home away yonder in the states,
       that I hadn't heard from in thirteen years, when a bluejay
       lit on that house, with an acorn in his mouth, and says,
       'Hello, I reckon I've struck something.' When he spoke,
       the acorn dropped out of his mouth and rolled down the roof,
       of course, but he didn't care; his mind was all on the
       thing he had struck. It was a knot-hole in the roof.
       He cocked his head to one side, shut one eye and put the
       other one to the hole, like a possum looking down a jug;
       then he glanced up with his bright eyes, gave a wink
       or two with his wings--which signifies gratification,
       you understand--and says, 'It looks like a hole,
       it's located like a hole--blamed if I don't believe it IS
       a hole!'
       "Then he cocked his head down and took another look;
       he glances up perfectly joyful, this time; winks his wings
       and his tail both, and says, 'Oh, no, this ain't no fat thing,
       I reckon! If I ain't in luck! --Why it's a perfectly
       elegant hole!' So he flew down and got that acorn,
       and fetched it up and dropped it in, and was just tilting
       his head back, with the heavenliest smile on his face,
       when all of a sudden he was paralyzed into a listening
       attitude and that smile faded gradually out of his
       countenance like breath off'n a razor, and the queerest
       look of surprise took its place. Then he says, 'Why, I
       didn't hear it fall!' He cocked his eye at the hole again,
       and took a long look; raised up and shook his head;
       stepped around to the other side of the hole and took
       another look from that side; shook his head again.
       He studied a while, then he just went into the Details--
       walked round and round the hole and spied into it from every
       point of the compass. No use. Now he took a thinking
       attitude on the comb of the roof and scratched the back
       of his head with his right foot a minute, and finally says,
       'Well, it's too many for ME, that's certain; must be
       a mighty long hole; however, I ain't got no time to fool
       around here, I got to "tend to business"; I reckon it's
       all right--chance it, anyway.'
       "So he flew off and fetched another acorn and dropped
       it in, and tried to flirt his eye to the hole quick
       enough to see what become of it, but he was too late.
       He held his eye there as much as a minute; then he raised
       up and sighed, and says, 'Confound it, I don't seem
       to understand this thing, no way; however, I'll tackle
       her again.' He fetched another acorn, and done his level
       best to see what become of it, but he couldn't. He says,
       'Well, I never struck no such a hole as this before;
       I'm of the opinion it's a totally new kind of a hole.'
       Then he begun to get mad. He held in for a spell,
       walking up and down the comb of the roof and shaking
       his head and muttering to himself; but his feelings got
       the upper hand of him, presently, and he broke loose
       and cussed himself black in the face. I never see a bird
       take on so about a little thing. When he got through he
       walks to the hole and looks in again for half a minute;
       then he says, 'Well, you're a long hole, and a deep hole,
       and a mighty singular hole altogether--but I've started
       in to fill you, and I'm damned if I DON'T fill you, if it
       takes a hundred years!'
       "And with that, away he went. You never see a bird work
       so since you was born. He laid into his work like a nigger,
       and the way he hove acorns into that hole for about
       two hours and a half was one of the most exciting and
       astonishing spectacles I ever struck. He never stopped
       to take a look anymore--he just hove 'em in and went
       for more. Well, at last he could hardly flop his wings,
       he was so tuckered out. He comes a-dropping down, once more,
       sweating like an ice-pitcher, dropped his acorn in and says,
       'NOW I guess I've got the bulge on you by this time!'
       So he bent down for a look. If you'll believe me,
       when his head come up again he was just pale with rage.
       He says, 'I've shoveled acorns enough in there to keep
       the family thirty years, and if I can see a sign of one
       of 'em I wish I may land in a museum with a belly full
       of sawdust in two minutes!'
       "He just had strength enough to crawl up on to the
       comb and lean his back agin the chimbly, and then he
       collected his impressions and begun to free his mind.
       I see in a second that what I had mistook for profanity
       in the mines was only just the rudiments, as you may say.
       "Another jay was going by, and heard him doing his devotions,
       and stops to inquire what was up. The sufferer told him
       the whole circumstance, and says, 'Now yonder's the hole,
       and if you don't believe me, go and look for yourself.'
       So this fellow went and looked, and comes back and says,
       "How many did you say you put in there?' 'Not any less
       than two tons,' says the sufferer. The other jay went
       and looked again. He couldn't seem to make it out, so he
       raised a yell, and three more jays come. They all examined
       the hole, they all made the sufferer tell it over again,
       then they all discussed it, and got off as many leather-headed
       opinions about it as an average crowd of humans could
       have done.
       "They called in more jays; then more and more, till pretty
       soon this whole region 'peared to have a blue flush about it.
       There must have been five thousand of them; and such
       another jawing and disputing and ripping and cussing,
       you never heard. Every jay in the whole lot put his
       eye to the hole and delivered a more chuckle-headed
       opinion about the mystery than the jay that went there
       before him. They examined the house all over, too.
       The door was standing half open, and at last one old jay
       happened to go and light on it and look in. Of course,
       that knocked the mystery galley-west in a second.
       There lay the acorns, scattered all over the floor..
       He flopped his wings and raised a whoop. 'Come here!'
       he says, 'Come here, everybody; hang'd if this fool hasn't
       been trying to fill up a house with acorns!' They all came
       a-swooping down like a blue cloud, and as each fellow
       lit on the door and took a glance, the whole absurdity
       of the contract that that first jay had tackled hit him
       home and he fell over backward suffocating with laughter,
       and the next jay took his place and done the same.
       "Well, sir, they roosted around here on the housetop
       and the trees for an hour, and guffawed over that thing
       like human beings. It ain't any use to tell me a bluejay
       hasn't got a sense of humor, because I know better.
       And memory, too. They brought jays here from all over
       the United States to look down that hole, every summer
       for three years. Other birds, too. And they could all
       see the point except an owl that come from Nova Scotia
       to visit the Yo Semite, and he took this thing in on
       his way back. He said he couldn't see anything funny
       in it. But then he was a good deal disappointed about
       Yo Semite, too." _
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本书目录

CHAPTER I - The Knighted Knave of Bergen
CHAPTER II - Heidelberg - Landing a Monarch at Heidelberg
CHAPTER III - Baker's Bluejay Yarn - What Stumped the Blue Jays
CHAPTER IV - Student Life - The Laborious Beer King
CHAPTER V - At the Students' Dueling-Ground - Dueling by Wholesale
CHAPTER VI - A Sport that Sometimes Kills
CHAPTER VII - How Bismark Fought
CHAPTER VIII - The Great French Duel - I Second Gambetta in a Terrific Duel
CHAPTER IX - What the Beautiful Maiden Said
CHAPTER X - How Wagner Operas Bang Along
CHAPTER XI - I Paint a "Turner"
CHAPTER XII - What the Wives Saved
CHAPTER XIII - My Long Crawl in the Dark
CHAPTER XIV - Rafting Down the Neckar
CHAPTER XV - Down the River - Charming Waterside Pictures
CHAPTER XVI - An Ancient Legend of the Rhine - The Lorelei
CHAPTER XVII - Why Germans Wear Spectacles
CHAPTER XVIII - The Kindly Courtesy of Germans
CHAPTER XIX - The Deadly Jest of Dilsberg
CHAPTER XX - My Precious, Priceless Tear-Jug
CHAPTER XXI - Insolent Shopkeepers and Gabbling Americans
CHAPTER XXII - The Black Forest and Its Treasures
CHAPTER XXIII - Nicodemus Dodge and the Skeleton
CHAPTER XXIV - I Protect the Empress of Germany
CHAPTER XXV - Hunted by the Little Chamois
CHAPTER XXVI - The Nest of the Cuckoo-clock
CHAPTER XXVII - I Spare an Awful Bore
CHAPTER XXVIII - The Jodel and Its Native Wilds
CHAPTER XXIX - Looking West for Sunrise
CHAPTER XXX - Harris Climbs Mountains for Me
CHAPTER XXXI - Alp-scaling by Carriage
CHAPTER XXXII - The Jungfrau, the Bride, and the Piano
CHAPTER XXXIII - We Climb Far--by Buggy
CHAPTER XXXIV - The World's Highest Pig Farm
CHAPTER XXXV - Swindling the Coroner
CHAPTER XXXVI - The Fiendish Fun of Alp-climbing