第3章 童年的记忆

I CANNOT recall what happened during the first months after my illness. I only know that I sat in my mother's lap or clung to her dress as she went about her household duties. My hands felt every object and observed every motion, and in this way I learned to know many things. Soon I felt the need of some communication with others and began to make crude signs. A shake of the head meant“No”and a nod,“Yes”, a pull meant“Come”and a push,“Go”. Was it bread that I wanted? Then I would imitate the acts of cutting the slices and buttering them. If I wanted my mother to make ice-cream for dinner I made the sign for working the freezer and shivered, indicating cold. My mother, moreover, succeeded in making me understand a good deal. I always knew when she wished me to bring her something, and I would run upstairs or anywhere else she indicated. Indeed, I owe to her loving wisdom all that was bright and good in my long night.

I understood a good deal of what was going on about me. At five I learned to fold and put away the clean clothes when they were brought in from the laundry, and I distinguished my own from the rest. I knew by the way my mother and aunt dressed when they were going out, and I invariably begged to go with them. I was always sent for when there was company, and when the guests took their leave, I waved my hand to them, I think with a vague remembrance of the meaning of the gesture.

One day some gentlemen called on my mother, and I felt the shutting of the front door and other sounds that indicated their arrival. On a sudden thought I ran upstairs before any one could stop me, to put on my idea of a company dress. Standing before the mirror, as I had seen others do, I anointed mine head with oil and covered my face thickly with powder. Then I pinned a veil over my head so that it covered my face and fell in folds down to my shoulders, and tied an enormous bustle round my small waist, so that it dangled behind, almost meeting the hem of my skirt. Thus attired I went down to help entertain the company.

I do not remember when I first realized that I was different from other people; but I knew it before my teacher came to me. I had noticed that my mother and my friends did not use signs as I did when they wanted anything done, but talked with their mouths. Sometimes I stood between two persons who were conversing and touched their lips. I could not understand, and was vexed. I moved my lips and gesticulated frantically without result. This made me so angry at times that I kicked and screamed until I was exhausted.

I think I knew when I was naughty, for I knew that it hurt Ella, my nurse, to kick her, and when my fit of temper was over I had a feeling akin to regret. But I cannot remember any instance in which this feeling prevented me from repeating the naughtiness when I failed to get what I wanted.

In those days a little coloured girl, Martha Washington, the child of our cook, and Belle, an old setter, and a great hunter in her day, were my constant companions. Martha Washington understood my signs, and I seldom had any difficulty in making her do just as I wished. It pleased me to domineer over her, and she generally submitted to my tyranny rather than risk a hand-to-hand encounter.

I was strong, active, indifferent to consequences. I knew my own mind well enough and always had my own way, even if I had to fight tooth and nail for it. We spent a great deal of time in the kitchen, kneading dough balls, helping make ice-cream, grinding coffee, quarreling over the cake-bowl, and feeding the hens and turkeys that swarmed about the kitchen steps. Many of them were so tame that they would eat from my hand and let me feel them.

One big gobbler snatched a tomato from me one day and ran away with it.Inspired, perhaps, by Master Gobbler's success, we carried off to the woodpile a cake which the cook had just frosted, and ate every bit of it. I was quite ill afterward, and I wonder if retribution also overtook the turkey.

The guinea- fowl likes to hide her nest in out- of- the- way places, and it was one of my greatest delights to hunt for the eggs in the long grass. I could not tell Martha Washington when I wanted to go egg-hunting, but I would double my hands and put them on the ground, which meant something round in the grass, and Martha always understood. When we were fortunate enough to find a nest I never allowed her to carry the eggs home, making her understand by emphatic signs that she might fall and break them.

The sheds where the corn was stored, the stable where the horses were kept, and the yard where the cows were milked morning and evening were unfailing sources of interest to Martha and me. The milkers would let me keep my hands on the cows while they milked, and I often got well switched by the cow for my curiosity.

The making ready for Christmas was always a delight to me. Of course I did not know what it was all about, but I enjoyed the pleasant odours that filled the house and the tidbits that were given to Martha Washington and me to keep us quiet. We were sadly in the way, but that did not interfere with our pleasure in the least. They allowed us to grind the spices, pick over the raisins and lick the stirring spoons. I hung my stocking because the others did; I cannot remember, however, that the ceremony interested me especially, nor did my curiosity cause me to wake before daylight to look for my gifts.

Martha Washington had as great a love of mischief as I. Two little children were seated on the veranda steps one hot July afternoon. One was black as ebony, with little bunches of fuzzy hair tied with shoestrings sticking out all over her head like corkscrews. The other was white, with long golden curls. One child was six years old, the other two or three years older. The younger child was blind-that was I-and the other was Martha Washington. We were busy cutting out paper dolls; but we soon wearied of this amusement, and after cutting up our shoestrings and clipping all the leaves off the honeysuckle that were within reach, I turned my attention to Martha's corkscrews. She objected at first, but finally submitted. Thinking that turn and turn about is fair play, she seized the scissors and cut off one of my curls, and would have cut them all off but for my mother's timely interference.

Belle, our dog, my other companion, was old and lazy and liked to sleep by the open fire rather than to romp with me. I tried hard to teach her my sign language, but she was dull and inattentive. She sometimes started and quivered with excitement, then she became perfectly rigid, as dogs do when they point a bird. I did not then know why Belle acted in this way; but I knew she was not doing as I wished. This vexed me and the lesson always ended in a one- sided boxing match. Belle would get up, stretch herself lazily, give one or two contemptuous sniffs, go to the opposite side of the hearth and lie down again, and I, wearied and disappointed, went off in search of Martha.

Many incidents of those early years are fixed in my memory, isolated, but clear and distinct, making the sense of that silent, aimless, dayless life all the more intense.

One day I happened to spill water on my apron, and I spread it out to dry before the fire which was flickering on the sitting-room hearth. The apron did not dry quickly enough to suit me, so I drew nearer and threw it right over the hot ashes. The fire leaped into life; the flames encircled me so that in a moment my clothes were blazing. I made a terrified noise that brought Viny, my old nurse, to the rescue. Throwing a blanket over me, she almost suffocated me, but she put out the fire. Except for my hands and hair I was not badly burned.

About this time I found out the use of a key. One morning I locked my mother up in the pantry, where she was obliged to remain three hours, as the servants were in a detached part of the house. She kept pounding on the door, while I sat outside on the porch steps and laughed with glee as I felt the jar of the pounding.This most naughty prank of mine convinced my parents that I must be taught as soon as possible. After my teacher, Miss Sullivan, came to me, I sought an early opportunity to lock her in her room.

I went upstairs with something which my mother made me understand I was to give to Miss Sullivan; but no sooner had I given it to her than I slammed the door to, locked it, and hid the key under the wardrobe in the hall. I could not be induced to tell where the key was. My father was obliged to get a ladder and take Miss Sullivan out through the window-much to my delight. Months after I produced the key.

When I was about five years old we moved from the little vine-covered house to a large new one. The family consisted of my father and mother, two older half-brothers, and, afterward, a little sister, Mildred.

My earliest distinct recollection of my father is making my way through great drifts of newspapers to his side and finding him alone, holding a sheet of paper before his face. I was greatly puzzled to know what he was doing. I imitated this action, even wearing his spectacles, thinking they might help solve the mystery. But I did not find out the secret for several years. Then I learned what those papers were, and that my father edited one of them.

My father was most loving and indulgent, devoted to his home, seldom leaving us, except in the hunting season. He was a great hunter, I have been told, and a celebrated shot. Next to his family he loved his dogs and gun. His hospitality was great, almost to a fault, and he seldom came home without bringing a guest.

His special pride was the big garden where, it was said, he raised the finest watermelons and strawberries in the county; and to me he brought the first ripe grapes and the choicest berries. I remember his caressing touch as he led me from tree to tree, from vine to vine, and his eager delight in whatever pleased me.

He was a famous story-teller; after I had acquired language he used to spell clumsily into my hand his cleverest anecdotes, and nothing pleased him more than to have me repeat them at an opportune moment.

I was in the North, enjoying the last beautiful days of the summer of 1896, when I heard the news of my father's death. He had had a short illness, there had been a brief time of acute suffering, then all was over. This was my first great sorrow-my first personal experience with death.

How shall I write of my mother? She is so near to me that it almost seems indelicate to speak of her.

For a long time I regarded my little sister as an intruder. I knew that I had ceased to be my mother's only darling, and the thought filled me with jealousy. She sat in my mother's lap constantly, where I used to sit, and seemed to take up all her care and time. One day something happened which seemed to me to be adding insult to injury.

At that time I had a much-petted, much-abused doll, which I afterward named Nancy. She was, alas, the helpless victim of my outbursts of temper and of affection, so that she became much the worse for wear. I had dolls which talked, and cried, and opened and shut their eyes; yet I never loved one of them as I loved poor Nancy. She had a cradle, and I often spent an hour or more rocking her. I guarded both doll and cradle with the most jealous care; but once I discovered my little sister sleeping peacefully in the cradle. At this presumption on the part of one to whom as yet no tie of love bound me I grew angry. I rushed upon the cradle and overturned it, and the baby might have been killed had my mother not caught her as she fell. Thus it is that when we walk in the valley of twofold solitude we know little of the tender affections that grow out of endearing words and actions and companionship. But afterward, when I was restored to my human heritage, Mildred and I grew into each other's hearts, so that we were content to go hand-in-hand wherever caprice led us, although she could not understand my finger language, nor I her childish prattle.

生病后几个月发生了什么事情，我已经记不起来了，只记得我常坐在母亲膝盖上，或者紧拉着母亲的裙角，跟着母亲到处走动。我用手触摸每一件物体，感觉每一个动作，通过这种方式，我熟悉了许多东西。我渴望与人交流，于是开始做一些简单的动作，摇头表示“不”，点头表示“是”，拉着别人向着我表示“来”，推向外侧表示“去”。当我想吃面包时，我就以切面包、涂黄油的动作来表示。当我想让母亲做冰淇淋时，就会模仿工人制作冰淇淋的动作。我还会做出发抖的样子，表示冷的感觉。母亲也竭尽所能做出各种动作，让我了解她的意思，我也总是可以明白母亲的意思，去楼上或其他地方给她取东西。说实在话，母亲的慈爱和智慧是我在那漫长的黑夜里的光明。

我也慢慢明白了许多发生在我身上的事情。5岁时，我学会了把洗好的衣裳叠好收起来，把洗衣店送回家的衣服分类，并能分辨出哪些是我自己的。从母亲和姑妈的梳洗打扮中，我知道她们要出去，于是我就求她们带上我。当有亲戚朋友来访时，我总被叫来见客人；他们离开时，我会挥手告别，我还隐约记得这种手势的意义。

记得有一次，家里有客人来看母亲，从大门的一开一关中，我知道了他们的来到。于是，我突发奇想，趁大家不注意，跑到母亲房间，学着母亲的样子在镜子前梳妆打扮起来，往头上抹油，在脸上擦了厚厚的粉，用发卡将面纱固定在头发上，让面纱垂下来轻轻地盖在脸上，低垂在我肩上。然后我又找了一件肥大的裙子穿在我小巧的身上，让那大大的裙摆拖在后面。这样打扮好后，我就帮助他们去接待客人。

我已经记不清楚是什么时候第一次意识到自己和别人有所不同了，但是我知道这应该是我的老师来之前的事。我曾注意到母亲和我的朋友们都是用嘴巴交谈，而不像我用手比划。因此，我会站在两个谈话者之间，用手摸他们的嘴巴，可是我仍然不能明白他们的意思。于是我也蠕动嘴唇，并用力做手势，想和他们交谈，可是一点用都没有。我气愤极了，又踢又叫，直到筋疲力尽。

当我无理取闹的时候，我想我自己很清楚，可是一旦我气极了，我就难以控制得住，就像我明白踢伤保姆艾拉一样，我知道她很痛，所以当我气消时，心里就会觉得很愧疚。但是当事情又不能称心如意时，我还是会发疯般地乱踢乱打。

在那些日子里，我有两个朝夕相处的好伙伴，一个是黑人女孩玛莎·华盛顿，她是我们家厨师的女儿；另一个是一只名叫贝尔的老猎狗。玛莎·华盛顿很容易就能明白我的手势，所以每次让她去做什么事情，她都能很快做好。能够让玛莎听命于我让我很高兴，她非常听我的话，甚至我的无理取闹她通常也绝对服从。她从不和我打架，而是努力完成我让她做的任何事情。

我的身体一向结实，人又好动，感情冲动时完全不顾后果。我非常自负，总喜欢我行我素，有时为了实现目的甚至不惜一战。在那个时期，我和玛莎在厨房度过了不少时光，一起揉面团，做冰淇淋，磨咖啡豆，或者为了几个点心而争吵不休，或者和她一起喂在厨房台阶上散步的母鸡和火鸡，这些家禽是如此温顺，一点儿也不怕人，它们在我手上吃食，并乖乖地让我抚摸它们。

有一天，一只大雄火鸡抢走了我手中的番茄。也许是受到火鸡的启发，我和玛莎也从厨房偷走了刚烤好的蛋糕，躲在柴堆中吃得干干净净，可是事后吃坏了肚子，这可能就是偷东西的报应，却不知那只火鸡是否也受到了同样的惩罚。

珍珠鸡喜欢在隐蔽处筑巢，我特别爱到深草丛中去寻找它们的蛋。我虽不能对玛莎说要去找鸡蛋，但我可以把两手合成圆形放在地上，以表示草丛里有某种圆形的东西，玛莎总是一看就能明白。如果我们有幸找到了鸡窝，我绝不允许玛莎拿着蛋回家，我用手势向她强调，她拿着蛋，一摔跤就会把鸡蛋打碎的。

对于我和玛莎来说，存储粮食的仓库、养马的厩槽、早上和晚上给奶牛挤奶的草场，全都充满了我们童年永不褪色的回忆，也给了我们无穷无尽的乐趣。我还记得，挤奶工人挤牛奶时，常常让我把手放在奶牛身上，我也因为好奇而被牛尾打了好多次。

对我来说，准备庆祝圣诞节也是一件非常令人愉快的事情，虽然我不明白过节的意义，但是我喜欢家里因为节日而到处弥漫的欢快和愉悦，至于大人赏给玛莎和我的美味，更是我们所喜爱的。即使是在伤心的时候，我也会因为圣诞节的到来而心情开朗起来。过节时，家人会让我们磨香料、挑选葡萄干、舔那些搅拌过食物的调羹。我也模仿别人，把长袜子挂起来，然而我对圣诞老人的礼物并不真的感兴趣，所以也不会因为兴奋好奇而天不亮就爬起来看袜子里装了什么礼物。

玛莎·华盛顿也和我一样喜欢搞恶作剧。在7月一个炎热的午后，我和玛莎坐在阳台的石阶上，肤色黝黑的玛莎用鞋带把她绒毛般的头发扎成一束束的，看上去就像很多螺丝锥长在头上。而我皮肤白皙，一头长长的金黄色卷发。一个6岁，另一个大两三岁。那个小点儿的盲童就是我，另一个就是玛莎·华盛顿。我们两人坐在石阶上剪纸娃娃，但是不久我们厌倦了，于是就把鞋带剪碎，又去剪石阶边用手够得到的冬青叶子。突然，我的注意力转向玛莎那一头“螺丝锥”。一开始，玛莎还挣扎着不肯让我剪，可最后还是屈服了。因为游戏必须公平，于是玛莎抓起剪刀剪下我一缕头发，若不是母亲及时发现并制止，玛莎很可能把我的头发全部剪光了。

贝尔，也就是那只猎狗，是我的另一个伙伴。它既老又懒，喜欢躺在暖炉旁睡觉，一点也不爱陪我玩。它也不够精明，我竭尽全力教它手语，但是它又懒又笨，根本不懂我在做什么。有时贝尔也会突然兴奋地狂奔起来，这时它看上去就像瞄准了猎物的机敏猎狗，威风凛凛的。我不明白它为什么会这样，但它不听我的指挥是肯定的。对此我很着急，但无论如何我只是一厢情愿而已。对于我的种种努力，贝尔总是无精打采地爬起来，伸伸懒腰，嗅嗅暖炉，然后又在另一端躺下，一点也不理会我的指挥。我觉得自讨没趣，便又去找玛莎玩。

我童年的记忆充满了零碎的片断，虽然孤独，但是非常清晰生动，它使我在没有声音、没有光明，甚至没有前途的情况下，仍然能够强烈地感受这个世界。

一天，我不小心把水溅到了裙子上，就把裙子摊开来放在卧室采暖炉的边上，想把它烘干。但是裙子干得不够快，我就直接把裙子放在暖炉的热灰上面。突然，火一下子着了起来，包围了我，连我的衣裳也烧着了。我发出了可怕的叫声，老奶奶维尼赶来了，用一床毯子裹住我，我差点儿窒息，但火也被扑灭了。除了手和头发之外，我其余的地方烧得并不太厉害。

大约在这个时期，我发现了钥匙的妙处，对它的使用方法表现出了浓厚的兴趣。一天早晨，我把母亲锁在储藏室里，这时仆人们都在屋外干活，结果母亲被锁在里面足足有3个小时。她一直用力地敲门，而我却坐在走廊前的台阶上，因为感觉到敲门的震动而咯咯地笑个不停。由于我的这次恶作剧，父母决定尽快请人来管教我，于是我的家庭教师——莎莉文小姐走进了我的生命中，但我还是找机会把她锁在了她的房间里。

一次，母亲让我上楼送东西给莎莉文老师，我回转身的时候，锁上了房门，把钥匙藏在客厅角落的衣柜下。我没有说出藏钥匙的地方，父亲不得不搭了一架梯子，将莎莉文老师从窗户中接了出来，我当时得意极了。几个月之后，我才把钥匙交出来。

当我大约5岁的时候，我们从那所爬满蔓藤的房子搬到了一所更大的新房子。我们家有父亲、母亲、两个异母哥哥，后来又有一个小妹妹米尔德里德。

我对父亲最初而且清晰的记忆，是我有一次穿过一大堆的报纸，来到父亲跟前。他当时独自一人举着一大张纸，遮住了脸部。我很奇怪，想知道父亲在干什么，于是也学着他的样子，举起一张纸，甚至戴上了他的眼镜，以为这样就可以知道了。但是多年来我一直没有搞明白，后来我才知道那些纸都是报纸，而我父亲是其中一份报纸的编辑。

父亲非常仁慈宽厚，对家庭充满了热爱。除了打猎季节，他很少离开我们。有人告诉我说，他是个好猎人和神枪手。除了家人，他最爱的就是狗和猎枪。他非常好客，几乎有些过分，没有一次回家不带回客人的。

他还有一个特殊的爱好，就是侍弄果园。有人说，父亲栽的西瓜和草莓是全村最好的。他总是给我带来最早长熟的葡萄和最好的草莓吃，我还记得他常常温柔慈爱地带着我在果林和瓜田中散步，他给我的快乐与关爱无论我在哪里都会伴随着我，让我感到非常快乐。

父亲还是讲故事的高手，在我知道写字之后，他经常把许多有趣的故事写在我手上，我会高兴地大笑起来。最令他高兴的，则莫过于听我复述他讲过的故事。

1896年，我正在北方享受那怡人的夏天的最后美景，突然传来了父亲去世的噩耗。他病了很短一段时间，在经过一阵急性发作之后，很快就去世了。这是我第一次尝到悲痛的滋味，也是我对死亡的最早体验。

我该如何描述我的母亲呢？她对我来说是如此的亲近，我反而不知道从何处开始说了。

长时间以来，我一直将我的小妹妹看成是一个入侵者。我认为我被分走了母亲唯一的爱，因此心中满怀嫉妒。她常常坐在母亲的腿上，而那是我以前常坐的位置，她似乎夺走了母亲所有的关爱和时间。后来发生了一件事，使我觉得不仅被分割了母爱，而且受了侮辱。

那时，我有一个心爱异常的洋娃娃，我后来给它起名“南茜”。它是我脾气发作时无辜的牺牲品，被我玩得破旧不堪。虽然我有许多洋娃娃，它们有的会说话，有的会哭闹，有的会眨眼，但我最喜欢的还是可怜的南茜。南茜有一个摇篮，我经常好几个小时在摇篮旁边摇她玩。我以最大的嫉妒心护卫着我的洋娃娃和摇篮。一天，我发现妹妹正舒舒服服地睡在摇篮里。那时，我正嫉妒她夺走了母爱，对她当然没有任何爱心，又如何能容忍她睡在摇篮里呢？我勃然大怒，冲向摇篮，将它掀翻。妹妹掉到地上时，如果不是母亲及时赶来接住，可能就会摔死了。这时我已经既盲又聋，正处于双重孤独的低谷中，所以领略不到亲热的语言和怜爱的行为以及伙伴之间所产生的感情。后来，当我回复到人的本性之后，妹妹米尔德里德和我变得心灵相通，我们手拉着手到处游玩，尽管她看不懂我的手语，我也听不见她咿咿呀呀的童音。