Enter Mitchell恩特尔·米切尔

The Western train had just arrived at Redfern railway-station with a lot of ordinary passengers and one swagman1.

西方号列车刚刚抵达雷德芬火车站，车上有很多普通乘客，还有一个流浪汉。

He was short， and stout， and bow-legged， and freckled， and sandy. He had red hair and small， twinkling， grey eyes， and—what often goes with such things—the expression of a born comedian. He was dressed in a ragged， well-washed print shirt， an old black waistcoat with a calico back， a pair of cloudy moleskins patched at the knees and held up by a plaited greenhide belt buckled loosely round his hips， a pair of well-worn， fuzzy blucher boots2， and a soft felt hat， green with age， and with no brim worth mentioning， and no crown to speak of. He swung a swag on to the platform， shouldered it， pulled out a billy3 and water-bag， and then went to a dog-box in the break van.

他身材矮小，敦实，罗圈腿，满脸雀斑，沙色皮肤。他一头红发，还有一双眨巴着的灰色小眼睛。所有这些给了他一幅天生喜剧演员的表情。他身着一件破旧干净的印花衬衫，套一件背后拼接白布的老旧黑色马甲，下身穿一条褪色的工装裤，膝盖处打着补丁，一条生牛皮编织腰带松松垮垮地挂在胯上。脚穿一双磨旧、毛边翻卷的布鲁彻尔靴子，头戴一顶软毡帽，旧得泛绿，几乎没有帽檐，更看不见帽顶。他把行包甩到站台上，扛起来，从里面扯出一只铁皮罐和一个水袋，然后朝火车的运狗车厢走去。

Five minutes later he appeared on the edge of the cab-platform， with an anxious-looking cattle-dog crouching4 against his legs， and one end of the chain in his hand.

五分钟后，他出现在出租车站台边缘，手里牵着狗链，一只神情焦虑的牧牛犬蜷缩在他的腿边。

He eased down the swag against a post， turned his face to the city， tilted his hat forward， and scratched the well-developed back of his head with a little finger.

他倚着柱子缓缓卸下行包，转身向面城区，把帽子往前拉了拉，用小拇指挠他那饱满的后脑勺。

He seemed undecided what track to take.

他似乎拿不定主意该走哪条路。

‘Cab， sir！’

“打车吗，先生？”

The swagman turned slowly and regarded cabby with a quiet grin.

这个流浪汉慢慢转过身来，冲着出租车司机淡然一笑。

‘Now， do I look as if I want a cab？’

“哦，您瞧我像要打车的人吗？”

‘Well， why not？ No harm， anyway—I thought you might want a cab.’

“呃，为什么不呢？反正也没坏处——我以为您想要打车。”

Swaggy scratched his head， reflectively.

流浪汉若有所思地挠挠头。

‘Well，’ he said， ‘you’re the first man that has thought so these ten years. What do I want with a cab？’

“好吧，”他说，“这十年来，您还是第一个这么想的人。可我干吗打车呢？”

‘To go where you’re going’ of course.’

“当然是去您要去的地方啊。”

‘Do I look knocked up？’

“您瞧我是走不动了吗？”

‘I didn’t say you did.’

“我可没这么说。”

‘And I didn’t say you said I did... Now， I’ve been on the track this five years. I’ve tramped two thousan’ miles since last Chris’mas， and I don’t see why I can’t tramp the last mile. Do you think my old dog wants a cab？’

“我也没说您是这么看的……听着，这五年来我一直在路上。去年圣诞节以来，我已经走过两千英里，所以我没有理由不走完这最后一英里。您是觉得我这条老狗需要坐出租车吗？”

The dog shivered and whimpered; he seemed to want to get away from the crowd.

那只狗全身发抖，发出呜咽的声音，似乎想远离人群。

‘But then， you see， you ain’t going to carry that swag through the streets， are you？’ asked the cabman.

“可是，您瞧，您总不能扛着那个行包穿街过巷吧？”司机问道。

‘Why not？ Who’ll stop me？ There ain’t no law agin it， I b’lieve？’

“为什么不能呢？谁会拦我？我想，没有哪条法律禁止吧？”

‘But then， you see， it don’t look well， you know.’

“可是，您瞧，那样做不太好看，对吧？。”

‘Ah！ I thought we’d get to it at last.’

“啊！我早就料到，我们最后会说到这个。”

The traveller up-ended his bluey against his knee， gave it an affectionate pat， and then straightened himself up and looked fixedly at the cabman.

流浪汉把行包竖起来靠着膝盖，亲切地拍了拍它，然后挺直身子，盯着出租车司机。

‘Now， look here！’ he said， sternly and impressively， ‘can you see anything wrong with that old swag o’ mine？’

“您且瞧好了！”他神色一凛，不容置疑地喝道，“这个旧行包可有哪点不入您的眼？”

It was a stout， dumpy swag， with a red blanket outside， patched with blue， and the edge of a blue blanket showing in the inner rings at the end.

这是个矮而厚实的行包，外面裹着一条红毯，打着蓝色补丁，行包底端的内层现出一条蓝毯边。

The swag might have been newer; it might have been cleaner; it might have been hooped with decent straps， instead of bits of clothes-line and greenhide—but otherwise there was nothing the matter with it， as swags go.

这个行包或许可以更新一些，更干净一些，或许可以用像样的皮带捆扎，而不是用几段晾衣绳和生牛皮绳——但除此之外，作为行包它并没有什么毛病。

‘I’ve humped that old swag for years，’ continued the bushman; ‘I’ve carried that old swag thousands of miles—as that old dog knows—an’ no one ever bothered about the look of it， or of me， or of my old dog， neither; and do you think I’m going to be ashamed of that old swag， for a cabby or anyone else？

“这个旧行包我背好多年了。”流浪汉接着说道，“我背着它走了成千上万英里——我的老狗知道——从来就没人在意它的样子，也没人在意我的样子和我这条老狗的样子；那么，您觉得我会因为一个出租司机或其他什么人说了什么，就对这个旧行包感到难为情吗？

Do you think I’m going to study anybody’s feelings？

您觉得我会琢磨别人的感受吗？

No one ever studied mine！

从来没有人关注过我的感受！

I’m in two minds to summon you for using insulting language towards me！’

我在考虑，要不要告您辱骂我！”

He lifted the swag by the twisted towel which served for a shoulder-strap， swung it into the cab， got in himself and hauled the dog after him.

他抓住拧成一条用作肩带的毛巾，拎起行李，把它扔进车，自己也上了车，身后还拽着狗。

‘You can drive me somewhere where I can leave my swag and dog while I get some decent clothes to see a tailor in，’ he said to the cabman. ‘My old dog ain’t used to cabs， you see.’

“您把我拉去一个地方，让我把行包和狗安顿好，我再去弄身像样的衣服穿上去见裁缝。”他对司机说。“您瞧，我的老狗不习惯坐出租。”

Then he added， reflectively： ‘I drove a cab myself， once， for five years in Sydney.’

接着，他又若有所思地补充道：“我自己也开出租，在悉尼，开过五年。”

（译者单位：江西师范大学外国语学院）

1 swagman流浪汉，四处打短工的人。  2 blucher boots一种高筒靴。  3 billy铁锅或铁罐（露营时烧水用）。

4 crouch蜷伏。