Sylvie & Bruno (Vol.1&2). Льюис Кэрролл

It pinches me—but never mind!

       I WILL NOT CHARGE YOU INTEREST!”

      “How good! How great!” poor Peter cried.

       “Yet I must sell my Sunday wig—

       The scarf-pin that has been my pride—

       My grand piano—and my pig!”

       Full soon his property took wings:

       And daily, as each treasure went,

       He sighed to find the state of things

       Grow less and less convenient.

      Weeks grew to months, and months to years:

       Peter was worn to skin and bone:

       And once he even said, with tears,

       “Remember, Paul, that promised Loan!”

       Said Paul “I’ll lend you, when I can,

       All the spare money I have got—

       Ah, Peter, you’re a happy man!

       Yours is an enviable lot!

      “I’m getting stout, as you may see:

       It is but seldom I am well:

       I cannot feel my ancient glee

       In listening to the dinner-bell:

       But you, you gambol like a boy,

       Your figure is so spare and light:

       The dinner-bell’s a note of joy

       To such a healthy appetite!”

      Said Peter “I am well aware

       Mine is a state of happiness:

       And yet how gladly could I spare

       Some of the comforts I possess!

       What you call healthy appetite

       I feel as Hunger’s savage tooth:

       And, when no dinner is in sight,

       The dinner-bell’s a sound of ruth!

      “No scare-crow would accept this coat:

       Such boots as these you seldom see.

       Ah, Paul, a single five-pound-note

       Would make another man of me!”

       Said Paul “It fills me with surprise

       To hear you talk in such a tone:

       I fear you scarcely realise

       The blessings that are all your own!

      “You’re safe from being overfed:

       You’re sweetly picturesque in rags:

       You never know the aching head

       That comes along with money-bags:

       And you have time to cultivate

       That best of qualities, Content—

       For which you’ll find your present state

       Remarkably convenient!”

      Said Peter “Though I cannot sound

       The depths of such a man as you,

       Yet in your character I’ve found

       An inconsistency or two.

       You seem to have long years to spare

       When there’s a promise to fulfil:

       And yet how punctual you were

       In calling with that little bill!”

      “One ca’n’t be too deliberate,”

       Said Paul, “in parting with one’s pelf.

       With bills, as you correctly state,

       I’m punctuality itself.

       A man may surely claim his dues:

       But, when there’s money to be lent,

       A man must be allowed to choose

       Such times as are convenient!”

      It chanced one day, as Peter sat

       Gnawing a crust—his usual meal—

       Paul bustled in to have a chat,

       And grasped his hand with friendly zeal.

       “I knew,” said he, “your frugal ways:

       So, that I might not wound your pride

       By bringing strangers in to gaze,

       I’ve left my legal friend outside!

      “You well remember, I am sure,

       When first your wealth began to go,

       And people sneered at one so poor,

       I never used my Peter so!

       And when you’d lost your little all,

       And found yourself a thing despised,

       I need not ask you to recall

       How tenderly I sympathised!

      “Then the advice I’ve poured on you,

       So full of wisdom and of wit:

       All given gratis, though ’tis true

       I might have fairly charged for it!

       But I refrain from mentioning

       Full many a deed I might relate—

       For boasting is a kind of thing

       That I particularly hate.

      “How vast the total sum appears

       Of all the kindnesses I’ve done,

       From Childhood’s half-forgotten years

       Down to that Loan of April One!

       That Fifty Pounds! You little guessed

       How deep it drained my slender store:

       But there’s a heart within this breast,

       And I WILL LEND YOU FIFTY MORE!”

      “Not so,” was Peter’s mild reply,

       His cheeks all wet with grateful tears:

       “No man recalls, so well as I,

       Your services in bygone years:

       And this new offer, I admit,

       Is very very kindly meant—

       Still, to avail myself of it

       Would not be quite convenient!”

      You’ll see in a moment what the difference is between “convenient” and “inconvenient.” You quite understand it now, don’t you?’ he added, looking kindly at Bruno, who was sitting, at Sylvie’s side, on the floor.

      ‘Yes,’ said Bruno, very quietly. Such a short speech was very unusual, for him: but just then he seemed, I fancied, a little exhausted. In fact, he climbed up into Sylvie’s lap as he spoke, and rested his head against her shoulder. ‘What a many verses it was!’ he whispered.

Chapter 12

      A Musical Gardener

      Table of Contents

      The Other Professor regarded him with some anxiety. ‘The smaller animal ought to go to bed at once,’ he said with an air of authority.

      ‘Why at once?’ said the Professor.

      ‘Because he