马克吐温：婴儿.doc

马克吐温婴儿主席先生、各位先生们：“为婴儿祝酒！”真是妙不可言。我们并非都能有幸做过女人，我们也并非都做过将军、诗人或政治家。但是，轮到为婴儿祝酒，我们就有了共同点因为我们都做过婴儿。暨千年来，世界各地在举行宴会时竟完全会忽视了婴儿，好像婴儿一点也不重要，这太不像话了！先生们，如果各位静思片刻如果各为回到五十年或一百年前，回到婚后不久的岁月，并再度凝视你们的第一个小宝贝各位就会记起他非常重要，而且岂止是重要。凡军人都知道，当那个小家伙来到你的大本营，你就得递交辞呈。他掌管了全部指挥权。你成了他的随从，它的保镖。你还得侍奉左右，恭候吩咐。他这个指挥官不考虑时间早晚，距离远近，天气好坏，或其他任何情况。不过有无可能，你都得执行命令。而且，它的战术教程只有一种行军方式，那就是跑步。他对你百般蛮横，百般无礼，而你就算浑身是胆，也不敢吭声。你可以面对多纳尔森和维克斯堡的死亡风暴并奋勇反击；但是，当他抓你的胡子，扯你的头发，拧你的鼻子，你却不得不忍气吞声。当战争的雷声在你的耳际响起，你迎着炮火迅猛前进；但是，当他像印第安人那样开始发出令人恐惧的战斗呼喊，你却大踏步地后撤，而且你还很高兴有这样的机会。当他嚷着要喝止咳糖浆，你敢脱口说出自己的意见吗？你敢说有些服务项目并不适合于一位军官和绅士吗？不，你会起身去那糖浆！如果他吩咐你去那奶瓶，但瓶里的奶不热，你会顶嘴吗？不，你会行动起来，你会去把奶热一下！你在“仆人工作室”里竟然如此屈尊俯就，以至于亲口尝尝那不冷不热的、淡而无味的玩意儿，看看是否正好！嗯三分水，一份奶，加一点糖来减轻“肚子痛”，在加一滴薄荷油来防止那顽固的呃逆。我至今还记得那玩意儿的滋味！你这样下去学会了多少东西！多情的年轻人仍然笃信一个古老的传说：婴儿如果在睡梦中微笑，是因为天使在对他讲悄悄话。太美了，但是太不可信了那只是肠胃发出的嘀咕声而已，朋友们。如果你的小宝贝提议在老时间，即在凌晨两点半散步，你难道不立即起身，并说你正想提议这样做吗？哦，你是训练有素的！你身穿“便服”，怀抱宝宝，在房间里来来回回多部；你不顾尊严地、咿咿呀呀的信口胡扯；你甚至还亮出军人的嗓门，努力唱上一曲“宝宝乖宝宝睡”田纳西军团真是出足洋相了！而邻居也真是苦恼透了！因为在一英里之内，并非人人都喜欢在凌晨三点欣赏军乐。你这样持续了两三个小时，而你的茸头小上司却示意，练操和唱歌对他在合适不过，你建议你在这条战线上一直战斗到天亮！你怎么办？你只得继续战斗，直到筋疲力尽倒下来为止。我喜欢“婴儿一点也不重要”的想法！为什么？因为一个婴儿只会把整栋房子和前院都占为己有，并搞得一团糟；一个婴儿就会使你和你的内务部忙个不停；他敢于进取，难以控制，往往目无法纪；无论你采取什么手段，都无法使他恪守常规。一个孩子就够你受的了。如果你有还有理智，千万不要祈求生双胞胎。双胞胎意味着骚乱不止，而三胞胎无异于早饭。现在，在全国三四百万个摇篮中，有几个摇篮将被视为神圣的文物而世世代代的保存起来如果我们知道你哪几个的话。在其中的一个摇篮里，很可能有一位未来的法拉格特，此时正在迷迷糊糊的出牙各位想一想出牙时的情景吧他还非常热切的咕哝了一句什么，虽然口齿不清，但是有情可原。在另一个摇篮里，未来的天文学家正没精打采的对这闪烁的银河眨眼，思忖着另一位叫做奶妈的人的下落。在第三个摇篮里，未来的大史学家正躺在那儿，无疑要躺到这个平凡的使命完成为止。在还有一个摇篮里，未来的总统并不再为国家大事而操劳，却在为头发这么早出了什么问题而烦神。在一长列其他的摇篮里，大约有6000名谋求官职者，现在正准备再想着为未来的总统提供解决这一老问题的机会！再美国国旗下的某个地方还有一个摇篮，里面躺着美军未来的声名显赫的总司令，他此刻并不在为将来的威严和责任犯愁，而是开动他的全部战略头脑，想方设法的把大脚趾伸进嘴里这并非对今晚显赫的贵宾有何不敬，而是说，56年前他也曾把注意力放在这件大事上！如果说从小看到大，三岁看到老，那么，只有极少数人才会怀疑他取得了成功。Title: Speech On The BabiesAuthor: Mark Twain More Titles by Twain AT THE BANQUET, IN CHICAGO, GIVEN BY THE ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE TO THEIR FIRST COMMANDER, GENERAL U. S. GRANT, NOVEMBER, 1879The fifteenth regular toast was The Babies-as they comfort us in our sorrows, let us not forget them in our festivities.I like that. We have not all had the good fortune to be Ladies. We have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to the babies, we stand on common ground. It is a shame that for a thousand years the worlds banquets have utterly ignored the baby, as if he didnt amount to anything. If you will stop and think a minute -if you will go back fifty or one hundred years to your early married life and recontemplate your first baby-you will remember that he amounted to a great deal, and even something over. You soldiers all know that when the little fellow arrived at family headquarters you had to hand in your resignation. He took entire command. You became his lackey, his mere body servant, and you had to stand around, too. He was not a commander who made allowances for time, distance, weather, or anything else. You had to execute his order whether it was possible or not. And there was only one form of marching in his manual of tactics, and that was the double-quick. He treated you with every sort of insolence and disrespect, and the bravest of you didnt dare to say a word. You could face the death-storm at Donelson and Vicksburg, and give back blow for blow; but when he clawed your whiskers, and pulled your hair, and twisted your nose, you had to take it. When the thunders of war were sounding in your ears you set your faces toward the batteries, and advanced with steady tread; but when he turned on the terrors of his war-whoop you advanced in the other direction, and mighty glad of the chance, too. When he called for soothing-syrup, did you venture to throw out any side remarks about certain services being unbecoming an officer and a gentleman? No. You got up and got it. When he ordered his pap-bottle and it was not warm, did you talk back? Not you. You went to work and warmed it. You even descended so far in your menial office as to take a suck at that warm, insipid stuff yourself, to see if it was right-three parts water to one of milk, a touch of sugar to modify the colic, and a drop of peppermint to kill those hiccoughs. I can taste that stuff yet. And how many things you learned as you went along! Sentimental young folks still take stock in that beautiful old saying that when the baby smiles in his sleep, it is because the angels are whispering to him. Very pretty, but too thin-simply wind on the stomach, my friends. If the baby proposed to take a walk at his usual hour, two oclock in the morning, didnt you rise up promptly and remark, with a mental addition which would not improve a Sunday-school book much, that that was the very thing you were about to propose yourself? Oh! you were under good discipline, and as you went fluttering up and down the room in your undress uniform, you not only prattled undignified baby-talk, but even tuned up your martial voices and tried to sing!-Rock-a-by baby in the treetop, for instance. What a spectacle for an Army of the Tennessee! And what an affliction for the neighbors, too; for it is not everybody within a mile around that likes military music at three in the morning. And when you had been keeping this sort of thing up two or three hours, and your little velvet-head intimated that nothing suited him like exercise and noise, what did you do? Go on! You simply went on until you dropped in the last ditch. The idea that a baby doesnt amount to anything! Why, one baby is just a house and a front yard full by itself. One baby can furnish more business than you and your whole Interior Department can attend to. He is enterprising, irrepressible, brimful of lawless activities. Do what you please, you cant make him stay on the reservation. Sufficient unto the day is one baby. As long as you are in your right mind dont you ever pray for twins. Twins amount to a permanent riot. And there aint any real difference between triplets and an insurrection.Yes, it was high time for a toast-master to recognize the importance of the babies. Think what is in store for the present crop! Fifty years from now we shall all be dead, I trust, and then this flag, if it still survive (and let us hope it may), will be floating over a Republic numbering 200,000,000 souls, according to the settled laws of our increase. Our present schooner of State will have grown into a political leviathan-a Great Eastern. The cradled babies of to-day will be on deck. Let them be well trained, for we are going to leave a big contract on their hands. Among the three or four million cradles now rocking in the land are some which this nation would preserve for ages as sacred things, if we could know which ones they are. In one of them cradles the unconscious Farragut of the future is at this moment teething-think of it!-and putting in a world of dead earnest, unarticulated, but perfectly justifiable profanity over it, too. In another the future renowned astronomer is blinking at the shining Milky Way with but a languid interest-poor little chap!-and wondering what has become of that other one they call the wet-nurse. In another the future great historian is lying-and doubtless will continue to lie until his earthly mission is ended. In another the future President is busying himself with no profounder problem of state than what the mischief has become of his hair so early; and in a mighty array of other cradles there are now some 60,000 future office-seekers, getting ready to furnish him occasion to grapple with that same old problem a second time. And in still one more cradle,