THE SURPRISE OF MR. MILBERRY
J. K. Jerome
[The story was told to the author by Henry, an attendant in a hotel at a
small town near Stratford-upon-Avon in England.]
It was the strangest story and I shall never forget it. A young man came by
the bus that meets the 4. 52 train. He had a handbag and a kind of hamper
1
. He
wouldn't let anybody touch it, but carried it up to his bedroom himself. He car-
ried it in front of him in his arms. Once he fell going up the stairs and knocked
his head badly, but he did not drop that hamper. I could see he was nervous and
excited, but people very often are like that in hotels.
This man interested me, he was very young and serious looking. I fol-
lowed him up into his room and asked him if I could do anything for him. He
put the hamper on the bed with relief
2
, took off his hat, and then turned to an-
swer me.
"Are you a married man?" said he. It was a strange question to put to an
attendant.
"Well, not exactly," said I. "I am only engaged, but I know a lot about it,
and if it's matter of advice—"
"It isn't that," he answered, "but I don't want you to laugh at me. I thought
if you were a married man, you would be able to understand the thing better.
Have you got an intelligent woman in the house?"
"We've got women, " I said. "As to their intelligence that's difficult to say.
Shall I call the maid?"
"Ah, do, " he said. "Wait a minute. We'll open it first. "
He began to open the hamper, then suddenly stopped and said: "No, you
open it. Open it carefully. It will surprise you."
"What's in it?" I asked.
"You'll see, if you open it," he said.
Then I had an idea and asked him: "It isn't a dead body, is it?"
He became white and said: "Good God! I never thought of that. Open it
quickly."
I cut the cord
3
, opened the hamper, and looked in. He kept his eyes turned
away because he was frightened to look at it.
"Is it all right?" he asked. "Is it alive?"
"Yes, of course, quite alive."
97
"Is it breathing all right?" he asked.
"If you can't hear it breathing," I said, "I'm afraid you're deaf."
He listened and said nothing. Then he sat down in the chair by the fire.
"You know," he said, "I've never thought of that. He was shut up in the hamper
for over an hour, what if there was not enough air... Oh, I'll never do it again."
"Do you love it?" I asked.
"Love it?" he repeated. "Why, I'm his father."
"Oh," I said. "Then I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Coster King?"
4
"Coster King?" he answered in surprise. "My name is Milberry."
I said: "According to the label inside the basket the father of this child is
Coster King out of Starlight, his mother is Jenny Deans."
He looked at me nervously, then he came nearer and looked inside the
basket. I never heard a man give such a yell in all my life. He stood on one side
of the bed, and I on the other. The dog that was sleeping in the basket, woke and
sat up. It was a bull-dog of about nine months old.
"My child," he cried. "That animal isn't my child. What's happened? Am I
going mad?"
"You are nearly," said I, and so he was.
"What did you expect to see?" I asked.
"My child," he cried, "my only child – my baby!"
"Do you mean a real child?" I said.
"Of course I do," he said, "the most beautiful child you ever saw in all
your life, just thirteen weeks on Sunday. He had his first tooth yesterday."
The sight of the dog's face made him angry. He threw himself upon the
hamper, but I stopped him.
"It's not the dog's fault
5
. He's lost too. Somebody played a joke on you.
They took your baby out and put the dog in – that is, if there ever was a baby
there. "
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, sir," I said, "if you'll excuse me, gentlemen in their sober senses
don't take their babies about in hampers. Where do you come from?"
"From Banbury," he said; "I'm well-known in Banbury."
"I can quite believe it," I said, "you are the sort of young man that would
be known anywhere. "
"I'm Mr. Milberry," he said, "the grocer in this little town."
"Then what are you doing here with this dog?" I said.
"Don't make me angry," he answered. "I tell you I don't know myself. My
wife is staying here, because her mother is ill, and in every letter that she's writ-
ten home for the last two weeks, she's said: 'Oh, how I want to see Eric! If only I
could see Eric for a moment!'"
"A very motherly feeling," I said.
"So this afternoon," continued he, "I decided to bring the child here so that
she could see it, and see that it was all right. She can't leave her mother for more
than an hour, and I can't go up to the house because the old lady doesn't like me.
98
I had to wait here, and Milly – that's my wife – was going to come here when
she had time. I wanted this to be a surprise for her. "
"And I think," I said, "it will be the biggest surprise you have ever given
her."
"Don't try to joke," said he, "I'm very nervous now and I may knock you
down!"
He was right. It wasn't a subject for joking.
"But why," said I, "did you put the baby into a hamper?"
"At the last moment I found I didn't have the courage to carry the child in
my arms. He sleeps very well, and I thought that if I made him comfortable in
this hamper, he would sleep during the journey, which is very short. I had the
hamper with me all the time. How did it happen? It's magic! That's what it is."
"Don't be silly," I said, "there's some explanation and it must be found.
You are sure this is the same hamper you packed the child in?" He came nearer
and examined it carefully.
"It looks like it," he said, "but I am not sure."
"Now tell me," said I, "when did you put the hamper down?"
He thought and thought and then said: "Now I remember, I did put it
down for a moment on the platform at Banbury, while I bought some biscuits."
"There you are," I said. "And isn't tomorrow the first day of the Birming-
ham Dog Show?"
"I think you're right," he said.
"Now we are coming somewhere," I said. "It so happened that this dog
was taken to Birmingham, packed in a hamper exactly like the one you put your
baby in. You've got this man's dog, he's got your baby. It's possible that he
thinks, you've done it on purpose. "
6
Mr. Milberry put his head on his hands and groaned
7
. "Milly may be here
at any moment," said he, "and I'll have to tell her the baby was sent by mistake
to a Dog Show, I cannot do it."
"Go on to Birmingham," I said, "and try to find it. You can return in an
hour. "
"Come with me," he said, "you're a good man, come with me. I cannot go
alone. "
"Well," I said, "if the manager of the hotel allows me to go."
"Oh! He will, he must," cried the young man. "Tell him it's a matter of a
life's happiness. Tell him –"
"I'll tell him it's a matter of more money for the room," I said. "That will
help."
And so it did, with the result that in another twenty minutes I and young
Milberry and the dog in its hamper were on our way to Birmingham. When we
reached Birmingham we asked the station-master, and he asked all the porters
who met the 5. 13 train, but they all said that no man with a hamper had come
by that train. The station-master was a family man himself, and when we ex-
plained everything to him, he telegraphed to Banbury,
99
But in Banbury only one man carrying a hamper had taken that train and
that man was Mr. Milberry himself. The business began to look serious, when
one of the newspaper boys said that he had seen an old lady with a hamper, get-
ting into a cab.
With the help of the boy, we found the cabman who had taken the old la-
dy to a small hotel.
I heard all the details from the maid at the hotel. They could not get the
hamper into the cab and it had to go on top. The old lady was very worried as it
was raining all the time, and she asked the cabman to cover it up. Taking it off
the cab they dropped the hamper in the road; that woke the child up, and it began
to cry.
"Good Lord, ma'am! What is it?" asked the maid. "A baby?"
"Yes, my dear, it's my baby," answered the old lady, who was a little deaf.
"Poor dear, I hope it is all right."
The old lady had ordered a room with a fire in it. The maid brought the
hamper into the room and the old lady began to cut the cord so as to open it. The
baby inside was crying very loudly.
"Poor dear!" said the old lady. "Don't cry; mother's opening it as fast as
she can." Then she turned to the maid. "If you open my bag," said she, "you will
find a bottle of milk and some dog-biscuits."
"Dog-biscuits!" said the maid.
"Yes," said the old lady, laughing, "my baby loves dog-biscuits."
The maid opened the bag and found there the milk and the biscuits. She
was standing with her back to the old lady and did not see her open the hamper,
but she heard the sound of a fall.
When she looked round, she saw the old lady lying on the floor. The maid
thought the old lady was dead. The child was sitting up in the hamper, crying
loudly. The maid gave him a dog-biscuit which he began sucking
8
greedily.
In about a minute the old lady opened her eyes and looked round. The ba-
by was quiet now. The old lady looked at it and turned to the maid.
"What is it?" she asked, speaking in a frightened voice. "The thing in the
hamper?"
"It's a baby, ma'am," said the maid.
"You're sure it isn't a dog?" asked the old lady, "Look again."
The maid began to feel nervous and to wish that she wasn't alone with the
old lady.
"I cannot mistake a dog for a baby, ma'am," said the maid. "It's a child, a
baby."
The old lady began to cry. "It's a punishment for me, " she said, "because I
often spoke to that dog as to a baby, and now this thing has happened. "
"What has happened?" asked the maid who did not understand anything.
"I don't know, " said the old lady, sitting up on the floor. "I started from
my home two hours ago with a one-year-old dog in that hamper. You saw me
open it, you see what's in it now. "
"But dogs are not changed into babies by magic."
100
"I don't know how it's done," said the old lady. "I only know that I started
with a dog. "
"Somebody has put the baby there," said the maid, "somebody that wanted
to get rid of the child. They have taken your dog and put the baby in its place."
"They must have been very quick," said the old lady. "I left the hamper
for five minutes in Banbury, when I went to drink a cup of tea."
"That's when they did it," said the maid, "and a clever trick it was."
The old lady suddenly understood her position and jumped up from the
floor.
"And a nice thing for me
9
," she said. "An unmarried woman with a baby.
This is awful!"
"It's a beautiful child," said the maid.
"Would you take it?" asked the old lady.
"Oh, no, I wouldn't," said the maid.
The old lady sat down and began to think, but she did not know what to
do. At that moment somebody came up to the door and said: "Here is a young
man with a dog." When the old lady saw Mr. Milberry with her dog in the ham-
per, she nearly went mad with joy.
And Mr. Milberry snatched
10
the baby and kissed him. We just caught the
train to our town and got back to the hotel ten minutes before the baby's mother
came in.
I don't think Mr. Milberry ever told his wife what had happened.
NOTES:
1
hamper – корзина с крышкой;
2
with relief – с облегчением;
3
cord – веревка;
4
Coster King of Starlight – Костер Кинг от Старлайт (о родословной
собак);
5
fault – вина;
6 on purpose – нарочно;
7
groan – стонать;
8
suck – сосать;
9
and a nice thing for me – а каково мне;
10
snatch – схватить.
Comprehension:
1)
What was strange about the man who came to the hotel?
2)
Whom did the man ask to invite to his room and why?
3)
Whom did Mr. Milberry expect to see in the hamper and whom did he
see?
4)
How did it happen that he had taken another ham per?
5)
What did the old lady do when she saw a child in her hamper?
6)
Who helped Mr. Milberry to find his child?
101
THE ALLIGATORS
J. Updike
Joan Edison came to their half of the fifth grade from Maryland
1
in
March. She had a thin face with something of a grown-up's tired expression and
long black eyelashes like a doll's. Everybody hated her. That month Miss Fritz
was reading to them during homeroom about a girl, Emmy, who was badly
spoiled and always telling her parents lies about her twin sister Annie; nobody
could believe, it was too amazing, how exactly when they were despising Emmy
most Joan should come into the school with her show-off clothes and her hair
left hanging down the back of her fuzzy sweater instead of being cut or braided
and her having the crust to actually argue with teachers. "Well, I'm sorry, " she
told Miss Fritz, not even rising from her seat, "but I don't see what the point is of
homework. In Baltimore we never had any, and the little kids there knew what's
in these books. "
Charlie, who in a way enjoyed homework, was ready to join in the angry
moan of the others. Little hurt lines had leaped up between Miss Fritz's eye-
brows. "You're not in Baltimore now, Joan," Miss Fritz said. "You are in Oling-
er, Pennsylvania."
The children, Charlie among them, laughed, and Joan, blushing a soft
brown color and raising her voice excitedly against the current of hatred, got in
deeper by trying to explain, "Like there, instead of just reading about plants in a
book we'd one day all bring in a flower we'd picked and cut it open and look at it
in a microscope."
Miss Fritz puckered her orange lips into fine wrinkles, then smiled. "In the
upper levels you will be allowed to do that in this school. All things come in
time, Joan, to patient little girls." When Joan started to argue this, Miss Fritz lift-
ed one finger and said with the extra weight adults always have, "No. No more,
young lady, or you'll be in serious trouble with me." It gave the class courage to
see that Miss Fritz didn't like her either.
After that, Joan couldn't open her mouth in class without there being a
great groan. Outdoors in the playground, at recess
2
waiting in the morning for
the buzzer, hardly anybody talked to her except to say "Stuck-up"
3
or "Emmy".
Boys were always flipping little spitballs into the curls of her hanging hair. Once
John Eberly even cut a section of her hair off with a yellow plastic scissors sto-
len from art class. This was the one time Charlie saw Joan cry actual tears. He
was as bad as the others: worse, because what the others did because they felt
like it, he did out of a plan, to make himself more popular. In the first and se-
cond grade he had been liked pretty well, but somewhere since then he had been
dropped. There was a gang, boys and girls both, that met Saturdays in Stuart
Morrison's garage, and took hikes and played football together, and in winter
sledded on Hill Street, and in spring bicycled all over Olinger and did together
what else, he couldn't imagine. Charlie had known the chief members since be-
102
fore kindergarten. But after school there seemed nothing for him to do but go
home and do his homework and go to horror movies alone, and on weekends
nothing but beat monotonously at marbles or Monopoly or chess Darryl Johns or
Marvin Auerbach, who he wouldn't have bothered at all with if they hadn't lived
right in the neighborhood, they being at least a year younger and not bright for
their age, either. Charlie thought the gang might notice him and take him in if he
backed up their policies without being asked.
In Science, which 5А had in Miss Brobst's room across the hall, he sat one
seat ahead of Joan and annoyed her all he could, in spite of a feeling that, both
being disliked, they had something to share. One fact he discovered was, she
wasn't that bright. Her marks on quizzes were always lower than his. He told
her, "Cutting up all those flower's didn't do you much good. Or maybe in Balti-
more they taught you everything so long ago you've forgotten it in your old
age."
Charlie drew; on his tablet where she could easily see over his shoulder he
once in a while drew a picture titled "Joan the Dope": the profile of a girl with a
lean nose and sad mouth, the lashes of her lowered eye as black as the pencil
could make them and the hair falling, in ridiculous hooks, row after row, down
through the sea-blue cross-lines clear off the bottom edge of the tablet.
In the weeks since she had come, Joan's clothes had slowly grown sim-
pler, to go with the other girls', and one day she came to school with most of her
hair cut off, and the rest brushed flat around her head and brought into a little tail
behind. The laughter at her was more than she had ever heard. "Ooh, Baldy-
paldy
4
!" some idiot girl had exclaimed when Joan came into the cloakroom, and
the stupid words went sliding around class all morning. "Baldy-paldy from Bal-
timore. Why is old Baldy-paldy red in the face?"
Charlie's own reaction to the haircut had been quiet, to want to draw her,
changed. Halfway across the room from him, Joan held very still, afraid, it
seemed, to move even a hand, her face ashamed pink. The haircut had brought
out her forehead and exposed her neck and made her chin pointier and her eyes
larger. Charlie felt thankful once again for having been born a boy and having
no sharp shocks, like losing your curls. How much girls suffer had been one of
the first thoughts he had ever had.
That night he had the dream. He must have dreamed it while lying there
asleep in the morning light, for it was fresh in his head when he woke. They had
been in a jungle, Joan, dressed in a torn sarong, was swimming in a clear river
among alligators. Somehow, as if from a tree, he was looking down, and there
was a calmness in the way the slim girl and the green alligators moved, in and
out, perfectly visible under the water. Joan's face sometimes showed the horror
she was undergoing. Her hair trailed behind and fanned when her face came to-
ward the surface. He shouted silently with grief. Then he had rescued her; with-
out a sense of having dipped his arms in water, he was carrying her in two arms,
and his feet firmly fixed to the knobby back of an alligator which skimmed up-
103
stream, through the shadows of high trees and white flowers and hanging vines.
They seemed to be heading toward a wooden bridge arching over the stream. He
wondered how he would duck it, and the river and the jungle gave way to the
sweetness and pride he had felt in saving and carrying the girl.
He loved Joan Edison. The morning was rainy, and under the umbrella his
mother made him take this new knowledge, repeated again and again to himself,
gathered like a bell of smoke. Love had no taste, but sharpened his sense of
smell so that his oilcloth coat, his rubber boots, the red-tipped bushes hanging
over the low walls holding back lawns all along Grand Street, even the dirt and
moss in the cracks of the pavement each gave off clear odors. He would have
laughed, if a wooden weight had not been placed high in his chest, near where
his throat joined. He could not imagine himself laughing soon. Yet he felt firmer
and lighter and felt things as edges he must whip around and channels he must
rush down. If he carried her off, did rescue her from the others' cruelty, he would
have defied the gang and made a new one, his own. Just Joan and he at first,
then others escaping from meanness and dumbness, until his gang was stronger
and Stuart Morrison's garage was empty every Saturday. Charlie would be a
king, with his own football game. Everyone would come and plead with him for
mercy.
His first step was to tell all those in the cloakroom he loved Joan Edison
now. They cared less than he had expected, considering how she was hated. He
had more or less expected to have to fight with his fists. Hardly anybody gath-
ered to hear the dream he had pictured himself telling everybody. Anyway that
morning it would go around the class that he said he loved her, and though this
was what he wanted, to in a way open a space between him and Joan, it felt fun-
ny nevertheless, and he stuttered when Miss Fritz had him go to the blackboard
to explain something.
At lunch, he deliberately hid in the store until he saw her walk by. The
homely girl with her he knew turned off at the next street. He waited a minute
and then began running to overtake Joan in the block between the street where
the other girl turned down and the street where he turned up. Coming up behind
her, he said, "Bang, Bang."
She turned, and under her gaze, knowing she knew he loved her, his face
heated and he stared down. "Why, Charlie," her voice said with her Maryland
slowness, "what are you doing on this side of the street?" Carl, the town cop,
stood in front of the elementary school to get them on the side of Grand Street
where they belonged. Now Charlie would have to cross the avenue again, by
himself, at the dangerous crossing.
"Nothing," he said, and used up the one sentence he had prepared ahead:
"I like your hair the new way."
"Thank you," she said, and stopped. In Baltimore she must have had man-
ner lessons.
"But then I didn't mind it the old way either."
104
"Yes?"
A peculiar reply. Another peculiar thing was the tan beneath her skin; he
had noticed before, though not so closely, how when she colored it came up a
gentle dull brown more than red. Also she wore something perfumed.
He asked, "How do you like Olinger?"
"Oh, I think it's nice."
"Nice? I guess. I guess maybe. Nice Olinger. I wouldn't know because I've
never been anywhere else."
She luckily took this as a joke and laughed. Rather than risk saying some-
thing unfunny, he began to balance the umbrella by its point on one finger and,
when this went well, walked backwards, shifting the balanced umbrella, its hook
black against the patchy blue sky, from one palm to the other, back and forth. At
the corner where they parted he got carried away and in imitating a suave gent
leaning on a cane bent the handle hopelessly. Her amazement was worth twice
the price of his mother's probable crossness.
He planned to walk her again, and further, after school. All through lunch
he kept calculating. His father and he would repaint his bike. At the next haircut
he would have his hair parted on the other side to get away from his cowlick- He
would change himself totally; everyone would wonder what had happened to
him. He would learn to swim, and take her to the dam.
In the afternoon the momentum of the dream wore off somewhat. Now
that he kept his eyes always on her, ho noticed, with a qualm of his stomach,
that in passing in the afternoon from Miss Brobst's to Miss Fritz's room, Joan
was not alone, but chattered with others. In class, too, she whispered. So it was
with more shame – such shame that he didn't believe he could ever face even his
parents again – than surprise that from behind the dark pane of the store he saw
her walk by in the company of the gang, she and Stuart Morrison throwing back
5
their teeth. Charlie watched them walk out of sight behind a tall hedge; relief
was as yet a tiny fraction of his reversed world. It came to him that what he had
taken for cruelty had been love, that far from hating her everybody had loved her
from the beginning, and that even the stupidest knew it weeks before he did.
That she was the queen of the class and might as well not exist, for all the good
he would get out of it.
NOTES:
1
Maryland – штат США;
2
recess – большой перерыв;
3
Stuck-up – "задавала";
4
Baldy-paldy – кличка (от слова "bald");
5
throwing back their teeth – громко смеясь.
Comprehension:
1)
Who was Joan Edison and where had she come from?
2)
How did the children treat her?
105
3)
Why was she different from the others?
4)
What was Charlie's role in the girl's prosecution?
5)
Why did Charlie do it?
6)
What was Charlie's dream one night?
7)
What happened when Charlie revealed his feelings to Joan?
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