The Name of a Poet
Our teacher was telling us about a new system of memory training being used in someschools today.
“It works like this，”she said. "Suppose you wanted to remember the name of a poet-Robert Burns，for instance.”She told us to think of him as Bobby Burns.“Now get in your head a picture of a London policeman，a bobby in flames. See? Bobby Burns!”
“I see what you mean，”said the class know it all.“But how can you tell that it's not Robert Browning?”
poet
bobby
诗人的名字
我们的老师正在给我们介绍现在某些学校使用的一种新的记忆训练系统。
“这个系统是这样的，”她说。“假定你要记住一个诗人的名字一一例如，要记住罗伯特·彭斯的名字。”她告诉我们把他当作博比·彭斯。“让你的脑海里闪现出一个伦敦警察的形象，燃烧着的警察。明白吗?警察燃烧!”
“我明白你的意思，”班上的万事通说。“但是你怎么能说那就不是罗伯特·布朗宁呢?”
n.诗人
n.[C][英][口]警察
A Lesson In Reading
I had a schoolmate who had come into school at an age later than usual，and could hardly read. There was a book used by the learners in reading called“Dialogues between a Missionary and an Indian”，It was a poor performance，full of inconclusive arguments and other boy in question used to appear with this book in his hand in the middle of the school，the master standing behind him.
The lesson was to poor fellow，whose great fault lay in a deep toned drawl of his syllable and the omission of his stops，stood half looking at the book，and half casting his eye towarcJs the right of him，whence the blows were to proceed. The master looked over him，and his hand was ready.I am not exact in my quotation at this distance of time;but the spirit of one of the passages that I recollect was to the following purport，and thus did the teacher and his pupil proceed:
Master: Now，young man，have a care;or I’II set you a swinging task. (A common phrase of his.)
Pupil faking a sort of heavy bolt at his calamity，and never remembering his stop at the word“Missionary"): Missionary Can you see the wind?(Master gives him a slap on the cheek.)
Pupil (raising his voice to a cry, and still forgetting his stop):Indian No!
Master: Zounds，young man ! have a care，how you provoke me
Pupil (always forgetting the stop): Missionary How then do you know that there is such a thing? (Here a terrible thump.)
Pupil(with a shout of agony):Indian Because I feel it.
一节诵读课
当年我有个同学，入学比常规的年龄要迟，而且几乎完全不会读书。那时有个学生用的阅读课本，叫做《传教士和印第安人的对话》。课本不怎么样，尽是不得要领的论说和一些老生常谈。那孩子常常手拿该课本出现在学校中央，身后站着教师。
授课即将开始。那可怜的学生的毛病在于他读音节时语调深沉地拖长腔并略去应有的'停顿。他站立着，三心二意地看着书，一面向身子右边瞄去，因为打击将会来自那个方向。教师盯视着他，手已摆出了打人的架势。因为时隔已久，我的引述可能不很确切，但就我所忆，先生和学生的一次对话的要旨大致如下:
老师:“年轻人，小心点;要不我可要让你狠狠吃点苦头。”(这是他的口头禅。)
学生:(大难临头，身体猛然一摇闪，根本记不得在“传教士”一词后应该停顿。)“传教士你能看见风吗?”(教师扇了他一耳光。)
学生:(提高了嗓音，几乎是在哭喊，但仍不记得要停顿)“印第安人不能啊!”
教师:“该死!年轻人，小心点别惹我发火!”
学生:(一如既往漏掉停顿)“传教士那你怎么知道有这样一种东西呢?”(这时来了重重一击。)
学生:(痛苦地叫喊)“印第安人因为我感觉到了。”