THE VOICE OF THE CITY: BEST SHORT STORIES OF O. HENRY 欧·亨利经典短篇小说英文原版
SNOWFLAKES: BEST SHORT STORIES OF NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 霍桑经典短篇小说英文原版
內容簡介：
John
Griffith “Jack” London 1876–1916 was an American author, journalist, and
social activist. He was a pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial
magazine fiction and was one of the first fiction writers to obtain worldwide
celebrity and a large fortune from his fiction alone. Some of his most famous
works include The Call of the Wild and White Fang, both set in the Klondike
Gold Rush, as well as the short stories “To Build a Fire”, “An Odyssey of the
North”, and “Love of Life” . He also wrote of the South Pacific in such stories
as “The Pearls of Parlay ” and “The Heathen ”, and of the San Francisco Bay
area in The Sea Wolf .
Often troubled by physical ailments, during
his thirties London developed kidney disease of unknown origin. He died of
renal failure on November 22, 1916 on the ranch.
I am a retired captain of the upper sea. That is to say, when
I was a younger man which is not so long ago I was an aeronaut and navigated
that aerial ocean which is all around about us and above us. Naturally it is a
hazardous profession, and naturally I have had many thrilling experiences, the
most thrilling, or at least the most nerveracking, being the one I am about to
relate.
It happened before I went in for hydrogen gas balloons, all
of varnished silk, doubled and lined, and all that, and fit for voyages of days
instead of mere hours. The “Little Nassau” named after the “Great Nassau” of
many years back was the balloon I was making ascents in at the time. It was a
fair-sized, hot-air affair, of single thickness, good for an hour’s flight or
so and capable of attaining an altitude of a mile or more. It answered my
purpose, for my act at the time was making half-mile parachute jumps at
recreation parks and country fairs. I was in Oakland, a California town,
filling a summer’s engagement with a street railway company. The company owned
a large park outside the city, and of course it was to its interest to provide
attractions which would send the townspeople over its line when they went out
to get a whiff of country air. My contract called for two ascensions weekly,
and my act was an especially taking feature, for it was on my days that the
largest crowds were drawn.
Before you can understand what happened, I must first
explain a bit about the nature of the hot air balloon which is used for
parachute jumping. If you have ever witnessed such a jump, you will remember
that directly the parachute was cut loose the balloon turned upside down,
emptied itself of its smoke and heated air, flattened out and fell straight down, beating
the parachute to the ground. Thus there is no chasing a big
deserted bag for miles and miles across the country, and much
time, as well as trouble, is
thereby saved. This maneuver is accomplished by attaching a weight, at
the end of a long rope, to the top of the balloon. The aeronaut, with
his parachute and trapeze, hangs
to the bottom of the balloon, and, weighing more, keeps it right side
down. But when he lets go, the weight attached to the top immediately
drags the top down, and the
bottom, which is the open mouth, goes up, the heated air pouring out. The
weight used for this purpose on the “Little Nassau” was a bag of
sand.
On
the particular day I have in mind there was an unusually large crowd in
attendance, and the police had their hands full keeping the people back. There
was much pushing and shoving, and the ropes were bulging with the pressure of
men, women and children. As I came down from the dressing room I noticed two
girls outside the ropes, of about fourteen and sixteen, and inside the rope a
youngster of eight or nine. They were holding him by the hands, and he was
struggling, excitedly and half in laughter, to get away from them. I thought
nothing of it at the time—just a bit of childish play, no more; and it was only
in the light of after events that the scene was impressed vividly upon me.
“Keep
them cleared out, George!” I called to my assistant. “We don’t want any
accidents.”
“Ay,”
he answered, “that I will, Charley.”
George
Guppy had helped me in no end of ascents, and because of his coolness, judgment
and absolute reliability I had come to trust my life in his hands with the
utmost confidence. His business it was to overlook the inflating of the
balloon, and to see that everything about the parachute was in perfect working
order.
The
“Little Nassau” was already filled and straining at the guys. The parachute lay
flat along the ground and beyond it the trapeze. I tossed aside my overcoat,
took my position, and gave the signal to let go. As you know, the first rush
upward from the earth is very sudden, and this time the balloon, when it first
caught the wind, heeled violently over and was longer than usual in righting. I
looked down at the old familiar sight of the world rushing away from me. And
there were the thousands of people, every face silently upturned. And the
silence startled me, for, as crowds went, this was the time for them to catch
their first breath and send up a roar of applause. But there was no
hand-clapping, whistling, cheering—only silence. And instead, clear as a bell
and distinct, without the slightest shake or quaver, came George’s voice
through the megaphone:
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