牛津書(shū)蟲(chóng)系列 勃朗特一家的故事 01 Haworth
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1 Haworth
1 霍沃斯
There was a cold wind this afternoon，but the sun shone for an hour or two.I walked out on the moors behind the house.The sheep were hiding from the wind under the stone walls，and there were grey clouds over the hills to the west.It is only November，but I could smell snow in the air.
盡管今天下午刮起一陣寒風(fēng)，太陽(yáng)還是出來(lái)了一兩個(gè)小時(shí)。我漫步在屋后的荒野上，羊群躲在石墻下避風(fēng)，烏云籠罩著山頂，向西而去。剛剛才11月份，空氣中就已經(jīng)可以嗅到雪的氣息了。
It will be a cold winter，this year of 1855.
今年——1855年的冬天將會(huì)很冷。
the rector of the village of Haworth.Haworth is a village of small，grey stone houses on the side of a hill in the north of England，and I live in a house at the top of the hill，next to the church and the graveyard.
我叫帕特里克·勃朗特，已經(jīng)78歲了。我在霍沃斯做鄉(xiāng)村牧師。霍沃斯是英格蘭北部一座小山邊的一個(gè)村子，那兒有一些灰色石頭砌成的小房子。我住在山頂?shù)囊粭澐孔永?，隔壁是教堂和墓地?/p>
I walked through the graveyard to the church this afternoon.All my family except Anne are buried there.The wind had blown some dead leaves through the door into the church，and I watched them dancing in the sunlight near the grave.Soon I shall be in that grave with my wife and children，under the cold grey stone and dancing leaves.
今天下午，我步行穿過(guò)墓地去教堂。除了安妮，我的一家都葬在這里。冷風(fēng)卷起了一些枯葉，把它們從教堂的大門吹了進(jìn)來(lái)，我注視著它們?cè)谀沟嘏缘年?yáng)光中上下飛舞。要不了多久我也會(huì)躺在這個(gè)墓地中，在這冰冷的灰色石頭和紛飛的落葉下，同我的妻子和孩子們長(zhǎng)眠在一起。
It is dark outside now，and it is very quiet in this house.Charlotte's husband，Mr Nicholls，is reading in his room，and our servant is cooking in the kitchen.Only the three of us live here now.It is very quiet.I can hear the sounds of the wood burning in the fire，and the big clock on the stairs.
這時(shí)外面黑了下來(lái)，整幢房子非常安靜。夏洛蒂的丈夫尼科爾斯先生，正在自己的房間里看書(shū)，我們的用人正在廚房做飯。這兒只有我們?nèi)齻€(gè)人，真是太安靜了!我能聽(tīng)見(jiàn)木柴在爐火中燃燒的聲音和樓梯上大鐘的嘀噠聲。
There is another sound too—the sound of the wind outside.The wind has many voices.It sings and laughs and shouts to itself all night long.Last night it cried like a little child，and I got out of bed and went to the window to listen.
還有另一種聲音——那就是屋外風(fēng)的吼叫。風(fēng)有著各種各樣的聲音，它總是整宿整宿地笑呀，哭呀，喊呀。而昨夜它嗚咽得像個(gè)孩子。我下了床，走近窗邊側(cè)耳細(xì)聽(tīng)。
There was no child，of course.Only the wind and the grave-stones，cold in the pale moonlight.But I decided then that Iwould write the story of my children，today，before it is too late.Charlotte's friend，Mrs Gaskell，is writing a book about her，and perhaps she will want to read my story.
當(dāng)然不會(huì)有孩子，只有風(fēng)和蒼白月光下冰冷的墓碑。然而我還是決定就在今天，趁還沒(méi)有太晚，寫(xiě)寫(xiě)我的孩子們的故事。夏洛蒂的朋友蓋斯凱爾夫人正在寫(xiě)一部關(guān)于夏洛蒂的書(shū)，也許她會(huì)愿意讀讀我的故事。
It is a fine story.It began in April 1820，when we came to Haworth for the first time...
這是一個(gè)很好的故事，它始于1820年4月，我們第一次來(lái)到霍沃斯的時(shí)候……
There was a strong wind blowing that day too，out of a dark，cloudy sky.We could see snow on the moors.The road to Haworth goes up a hill，and there was ice on the stones of the road Maria，my wife，was afraid to ride up the hill in the carts.
那天，昏暗多云的天空一整天都刮著強(qiáng)勁的風(fēng)。我們能看到曠野上覆蓋的雪。去霍沃斯的路沿著山坡向上而去，一路上的石頭都結(jié)了冰?，旣悂啠业钠拮优伦R車上山。
'We'll walk，children，'she said.'If one of those horses falls down，there'll be a terrible accident.Come on，let's go and see our new house.'
“我們走上去吧，孩子們，”她說(shuō)。“要是那些馬有一匹滾下去，都會(huì)是一場(chǎng)可怕的災(zāi)難。走吧，讓我們走著去看我們的新房子。”
She was a small woman，my wife，and not very strong. But she carried the baby，Anne，up the hill in her arms.I carried Emily—she was one and a half years old then.The others walked.My two-year-old son，Patrick Branwell，walked with me，and Charlotte，who was nearly four，walked with her mother.The two oldest children—Elizabeth and Maria—ran on in front.They were very excited，and laughed and talked all the way.
我的妻子個(gè)子不高，身體也不好，可她還是抱著小女兒安妮往山上爬。我抱著一歲半的愛(ài)米麗，其他人都步行。兩歲的兒子帕特里克·布蘭韋爾和我走在一起;快四歲的夏洛蒂跟著媽媽;兩個(gè)最大的孩子，伊麗莎白和小瑪麗亞跑在前面。她們非常興奮，一路上又說(shuō)又笑。
The people of Haworth came out to watch us.Some of them helped，but most of them just stood in their doorways and watched.They are very poor people，in this village.I was their new rector.
霍沃斯的人們出來(lái)看我們，有的上來(lái)幫忙，但大多數(shù)人只是站在門前觀望。這個(gè)村子里的人都很窮。我是他們的新牧師。
We had seven carts to carry our furniture up that icy hill，but it was hard work for the horses.When we reached our house，the wind was blowing had in our faces.My wife hur-ried inside，and began to light fires.
7輛馬車幫我們把家具拉上冰凍的山頂。對(duì)馬來(lái)說(shuō)這不是件容易的事。我們到家時(shí)，冷風(fēng)猛吹著臉頰。我妻子急忙跑進(jìn)屋里生起火。
'Do you like it，my dear?'I asked her that night，when the children were in bed.She looked pale and tired.I thought it was because of the long journey，and the children.Perhaps it was.
“你喜歡這房子嗎，親愛(ài)的?”孩子們都入睡后我問(wèn)她。她看上去臉色蒼白，非常疲倦，我想是長(zhǎng)途跋涉和孩子們拖累的緣故。也許是吧。
She held out her hands to the fire，and said：'Of course，Patrick.It's a fine house.I do hope it will be a good home for you，and the children.'
她把手伸到爐邊烤著，說(shuō)：“當(dāng)然喜歡，帕特里克。這是幢好房子。我真希望它是你和孩子們的一個(gè)好家。”
I was a little surprised by that.'And for you，Maria，'I said.'Don't forget yourself.You are the most important per-son in the world，to me.'
她的話讓我覺(jué)得有點(diǎn)驚訝。“這也是你的家呀，瑪麗亞。”我說(shuō)，“別忘了你自己。對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，你是這個(gè)世界上最重要的人。”
She smiled then—a lovely smile.'Thank you，Patrick，'she said.She was a very small woman，and she was often tired because of the children.But when she smiled at me like that，I thought she was the most beautiful woman in England.
她聽(tīng)后笑了——多么可愛(ài)的微笑。“謝謝你，帕特里克。”她說(shuō)。她是一個(gè)很瘦小的女人，孩子們時(shí)常令她疲倦不堪。但是每當(dāng)她那樣對(duì)我微笑時(shí)，我會(huì)覺(jué)得她是全英國(guó)最美的女人。
A year and a half later，she was dead.
一年半以后，她死了。
She did not die quickly.She was in bed for seven long months，in awful pain.The doctor came often，and her sister Elizabeth came too，to help.The children were ill，as well.It was a terrible time.
她去得并不快。在極度的痛苦中她在病榻上捱了7個(gè)月之久。醫(yī)生常來(lái)看她，她姐姐伊麗莎白也來(lái)幫忙。孩子們也病了。那真是段可怕的日子。
My wife Maria died in September，1821.She was thirty-eight.It was my job to bury her in the church.Our six young children stood and watched quietly.
我妻子瑪麗亞死于1821年，享年38歲，是我為她在教堂主持的葬禮，我們的6個(gè)孩子站在一旁默默地看著。
Afterwards，we went back to the house.I called them into this room and spoke to them.
然后我們回家了。我把他們叫進(jìn)房間談話。
I said：'You must not cry too much，my dears.Your mother is with God now.She is happy.One day you will all die，and if you are good，you will go to God too.'
我說(shuō)：“你們不必太悲傷，親愛(ài)的孩子們。你們的媽媽現(xiàn)在和上帝在一起。她很快樂(lè)，有一天你們也都會(huì)死，如果你們是好人，也會(huì)去上帝那兒的。”
'But why?'Maria asked.'Why did she die now，father?We need her.'
“可是為什么?”小瑪麗亞問(wèn)道，“為什么她現(xiàn)在就死了?爸爸，我們需要她呀!”
'This world is a hard place，children，and we cannot under-stand everything that God does.But God loves us，never forget that.Your mother loved you，and perhaps she can see you now.We must all try to work hard，learn as much as possible，and be kind to each other.Will you do that?'
“這個(gè)世界是個(gè)苦難的地方，孩子們，我們無(wú)法理解上帝所作的每一件事。但是上帝愛(ài)我們，永遠(yuǎn)不要忘記這一點(diǎn)。你們的媽媽愛(ài)你們，也許她現(xiàn)在還可以看見(jiàn)你們。我們大家都應(yīng)努力工作，努力學(xué)習(xí)更多的知識(shí)，并且彼此友愛(ài)。你們能做到嗎?”
'Yes，father.'
“是的，爸爸。”
They all looked so sad，I remember，and they listened so carefully.Little Emily said：'Who will be our mother now?'
我記得他們看上去非常難過(guò)，卻都那么仔細(xì)地聽(tīng)著。小愛(ài)米麗說(shuō)：“現(xiàn)在誰(shuí)當(dāng)媽媽呢?”
'Maria is the oldest，so she will help me.You must all listen to her，and do what she says.And your Aunt Elizabeth is here，too.Perhaps she will stay for a while.'
“瑪麗亞最大，她將協(xié)助我。你們都得聽(tīng)她的，按她說(shuō)的去做。你們的伊麗莎白姨媽也在這兒。也許她會(huì)住一陣子。”
Elizabeth did stay.She was older than my wife，and she wasn't married.We called her Aunt Branwell.She came from Penzance in Cornwall，a warm，sunny place by the sea in the south—west of England.It is often cold on the moors behind Haworth，and the winds blow all winter.Aunt Branwell hated Haworth，but she stayed here all her life，to help me with her sister's children.She was a good，kind woman.
伊麗莎白真的住下了。她比我妻子年長(zhǎng)，一直未婚。我們叫她布蘭韋爾姨媽。她來(lái)自英格蘭西南部康沃爾的一個(gè)叫潘贊斯的靠海的地方，那里溫暖而且充滿陽(yáng)光。但霍沃斯后面的荒野經(jīng)常很冷，整個(gè)冬天都刮著寒風(fēng)。布蘭韋爾姨媽討厭霍沃斯，但她后來(lái)一直住在這兒，幫我照料她妹妹的孩子們。她真是個(gè)心地善良的女人。
I was very proud of my little Maria.She was only eight years old，but she worked all day like an adult.She helped the little ones to get washed and dressed;she helped them to play and draw and read.She was like a little mother to them.
我為我的小瑪麗亞非常自豪。她只有8歲，但她像個(gè)大人那樣整天忙著。她幫弟弟妹妹洗澡、穿衣服;她帶他們玩耍、畫(huà)畫(huà)、讀書(shū)。她就是他們的小媽媽。
She could read very well herself.We always had books and newspapers in the house，and I talked to the children about them every day.I talked to them about adult things：the Duke of Wellington，and the important things that he was doing in London.The children listened carefully，and tried hard to un-derstand.Maria often read to the others from the newspaper，and asked me questions about it.She understood it better than most men.
她自己能讀書(shū)而且讀得很好。我們家里總是有書(shū)和報(bào)紙，而我每天和孩子們談?wù)撨@些書(shū)報(bào)。我給他們講大人的事情：惠靈頓公爵及他在倫敦所做的重大事情。孩子們仔細(xì)傾聽(tīng)并試著去理解?，旣悂喗?jīng)常給別人念報(bào)紙，還問(wèn)我些問(wèn)題。她理解得比大多數(shù)成年人還好。
I was sure my children were very clever.But I did not have time to talk to them all day;I had my work to do.So，in 1824，I sent them to school.
我知道我的孩子們非常聰明。但我常常整天都沒(méi)有時(shí)間和她們談話，我有自己的工作要做。于是在1824年，我把他們送進(jìn)了學(xué)校。
1 Haworth
There was a cold wind this afternoon，but the sun shone for an hour or two.I walked out on the moors behind the house.The sheep were hiding from the wind under the stone walls，and there were grey clouds over the hills to the west.It is only November，but I could smell snow in the air.
It will be a cold winter，this year of 1855.
the rector of the village of Haworth.Haworth is a village of small，grey stone houses on the side of a hill in the north of England，and I live in a house at the top of the hill，next to the church and the graveyard.
I walked through the graveyard to the church this afternoon.All my family except Anne are buried there.The wind had blown some dead leaves through the door into the church，and I watched them dancing in the sunlight near the grave.Soon I shall be in that grave with my wife and children，under the cold grey stone and dancing leaves.
It is dark outside now，and it is very quiet in this house.Charlotte's husband，Mr Nicholls，is reading in his room，and our servant is cooking in the kitchen.Only the three of us live here now.It is very quiet.I can hear the sounds of the wood burning in the fire，and the big clock on the stairs.
There is another sound too—the sound of the wind outside.The wind has many voices.It sings and laughs and shouts to itself all night long.Last night it cried like a little child，and I got out of bed and went to the window to listen.
There was no child，of course.Only the wind and the grave-stones，cold in the pale moonlight.But I decided then that Iwould write the story of my children，today，before it is too late.Charlotte's friend，Mrs Gaskell，is writing a book about her，and perhaps she will want to read my story.
It is a fine story.It began in April 1820，when we came to Haworth for the first time...
There was a strong wind blowing that day too，out of a dark，cloudy sky.We could see snow on the moors.The road to Haworth goes up a hill，and there was ice on the stones of the road Maria，my wife，was afraid to ride up the hill in the carts.
'We'll walk，children，'she said.'If one of those horses falls down，there'll be a terrible accident.Come on，let's go and see our new house.'
She was a small woman，my wife，and not very strong. But she carried the baby，Anne，up the hill in her arms.I carried Emily—she was one and a half years old then.The others walked.My two-year-old son，Patrick Branwell，walked with me，and Charlotte，who was nearly four，walked with her mother.The two oldest children—Elizabeth and Maria—ran on in front.They were very excited，and laughed and talked all the way.
The people of Haworth came out to watch us.Some of them helped，but most of them just stood in their doorways and watched.They are very poor people，in this village.I was their new rector.
We had seven carts to carry our furniture up that icy hill，but it was hard work for the horses.When we reached our house，the wind was blowing had in our faces.My wife hur-ried inside，and began to light fires.
'Do you like it，my dear?'I asked her that night，when the children were in bed.She looked pale and tired.I thought it was because of the long journey，and the children.Perhaps it was.
She held out her hands to the fire，and said：'Of course，Patrick.It's a fine house.I do hope it will be a good home for you，and the children.'
I was a little surprised by that.'And for you，Maria，'I said.'Don't forget yourself.You are the most important per-son in the world，to me.'
She smiled then—a lovely smile.'Thank you，Patrick，'she said.She was a very small woman，and she was often tired because of the children.But when she smiled at me like that，I thought she was the most beautiful woman in England.
A year and a half later，she was dead.
She did not die quickly.She was in bed for seven long months，in awful pain.The doctor came often，and her sister Elizabeth came too，to help.The children were ill，as well.It was a terrible time.
My wife Maria died in September，1821.She was thirty-eight.It was my job to bury her in the church.Our six young children stood and watched quietly.
Afterwards，we went back to the house.I called them into this room and spoke to them.
I said：'You must not cry too much，my dears.Your mother is with God now.She is happy.One day you will all die，and if you are good，you will go to God too.'
'But why?'Maria asked.'Why did she die now，father?We need her.'
'This world is a hard place，children，and we cannot under-stand everything that God does.But God loves us，never forget that.Your mother loved you，and perhaps she can see you now.We must all try to work hard，learn as much as possible，and be kind to each other.Will you do that?'
'Yes，father.'
They all looked so sad，I remember，and they listened so carefully.Little Emily said：'Who will be our mother now?'
'Maria is the oldest，so she will help me.You must all listen to her，and do what she says.And your Aunt Elizabeth is here，too.Perhaps she will stay for a while.'
Elizabeth did stay.She was older than my wife，and she wasn't married.We called her Aunt Branwell.She came from Penzance in Cornwall，a warm，sunny place by the sea in the south—west of England.It is often cold on the moors behind Haworth，and the winds blow all winter.Aunt Branwell hated Haworth，but she stayed here all her life，to help me with her sister's children.She was a good，kind woman.
I was very proud of my little Maria.She was only eight years old，but she worked all day like an adult.She helped the little ones to get washed and dressed;she helped them to play and draw and read.She was like a little mother to them.
She could read very well herself.We always had books and newspapers in the house，and I talked to the children about them every day.I talked to them about adult things：the Duke of Wellington，and the important things that he was doing in London.The children listened carefully，and tried hard to un-derstand.Maria often read to the others from the newspaper，and asked me questions about it.She understood it better than most men.
I was sure my children were very clever.But I did not have time to talk to them all day;I had my work to do.So，in 1824，I sent them to school.
1 霍沃斯
盡管今天下午刮起一陣寒風(fēng)，太陽(yáng)還是出來(lái)了一兩個(gè)小時(shí)。我漫步在屋后的荒野上，羊群躲在石墻下避風(fēng)，烏云籠罩著山頂，向西而去。剛剛才11月份，空氣中就已經(jīng)可以嗅到雪的氣息了。
今年——1855年的冬天將會(huì)很冷。
我叫帕特里克·勃朗特，已經(jīng)78歲了。我在霍沃斯做鄉(xiāng)村牧師?；粑炙故怯⒏裉m北部一座小山邊的一個(gè)村子，那兒有一些灰色石頭砌成的小房子。我住在山頂?shù)囊粭澐孔永?，隔壁是教堂和墓地?/p>
今天下午，我步行穿過(guò)墓地去教堂。除了安妮，我的一家都葬在這里。冷風(fēng)卷起了一些枯葉，把它們從教堂的大門吹了進(jìn)來(lái)，我注視著它們?cè)谀沟嘏缘年?yáng)光中上下飛舞。要不了多久我也會(huì)躺在這個(gè)墓地中，在這冰冷的灰色石頭和紛飛的落葉下，同我的妻子和孩子們長(zhǎng)眠在一起。
這時(shí)外面黑了下來(lái)，整幢房子非常安靜。夏洛蒂的丈夫尼科爾斯先生，正在自己的房間里看書(shū)，我們的用人正在廚房做飯。這兒只有我們?nèi)齻€(gè)人，真是太安靜了!我能聽(tīng)見(jiàn)木柴在爐火中燃燒的聲音和樓梯上大鐘的嘀噠聲。
還有另一種聲音——那就是屋外風(fēng)的吼叫。風(fēng)有著各種各樣的聲音，它總是整宿整宿地笑呀，哭呀，喊呀。而昨夜它嗚咽得像個(gè)孩子。我下了床，走近窗邊側(cè)耳細(xì)聽(tīng)。
當(dāng)然不會(huì)有孩子，只有風(fēng)和蒼白月光下冰冷的墓碑。然而我還是決定就在今天，趁還沒(méi)有太晚，寫(xiě)寫(xiě)我的孩子們的故事。夏洛蒂的朋友蓋斯凱爾夫人正在寫(xiě)一部關(guān)于夏洛蒂的書(shū)，也許她會(huì)愿意讀讀我的故事。
這是一個(gè)很好的故事，它始于1820年4月，我們第一次來(lái)到霍沃斯的時(shí)候……
那天，昏暗多云的天空一整天都刮著強(qiáng)勁的風(fēng)。我們能看到曠野上覆蓋的雪。去霍沃斯的路沿著山坡向上而去，一路上的石頭都結(jié)了冰?，旣悂啠业钠拮优伦R車上山。
“我們走上去吧，孩子們，”她說(shuō)。“要是那些馬有一匹滾下去，都會(huì)是一場(chǎng)可怕的災(zāi)難。走吧，讓我們走著去看我們的新房子。”
我的妻子個(gè)子不高，身體也不好，可她還是抱著小女兒安妮往山上爬。我抱著一歲半的愛(ài)米麗，其他人都步行。兩歲的兒子帕特里克·布蘭韋爾和我走在一起;快四歲的夏洛蒂跟著媽媽;兩個(gè)最大的孩子，伊麗莎白和小瑪麗亞跑在前面。她們非常興奮，一路上又說(shuō)又笑。
霍沃斯的人們出來(lái)看我們，有的上來(lái)幫忙，但大多數(shù)人只是站在門前觀望。這個(gè)村子里的人都很窮。我是他們的新牧師。
7輛馬車幫我們把家具拉上冰凍的山頂。對(duì)馬來(lái)說(shuō)這不是件容易的事。我們到家時(shí)，冷風(fēng)猛吹著臉頰。我妻子急忙跑進(jìn)屋里生起火。
“你喜歡這房子嗎，親愛(ài)的?”孩子們都入睡后我問(wèn)她。她看上去臉色蒼白，非常疲倦，我想是長(zhǎng)途跋涉和孩子們拖累的緣故。也許是吧。
她把手伸到爐邊烤著，說(shuō)：“當(dāng)然喜歡，帕特里克。這是幢好房子。我真希望它是你和孩子們的一個(gè)好家。”
她的話讓我覺(jué)得有點(diǎn)驚訝。“這也是你的家呀，瑪麗亞。”我說(shuō)，“別忘了你自己。對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，你是這個(gè)世界上最重要的人。”
她聽(tīng)后笑了——多么可愛(ài)的微笑。“謝謝你，帕特里克。”她說(shuō)。她是一個(gè)很瘦小的女人，孩子們時(shí)常令她疲倦不堪。但是每當(dāng)她那樣對(duì)我微笑時(shí)，我會(huì)覺(jué)得她是全英國(guó)最美的女人。
一年半以后，她死了。
她去得并不快。在極度的痛苦中她在病榻上捱了7個(gè)月之久。醫(yī)生常來(lái)看她，她姐姐伊麗莎白也來(lái)幫忙。孩子們也病了。那真是段可怕的日子。
我妻子瑪麗亞死于1821年，享年38歲，是我為她在教堂主持的葬禮，我們的6個(gè)孩子站在一旁默默地看著。
然后我們回家了。我把他們叫進(jìn)房間談話。
我說(shuō)：“你們不必太悲傷，親愛(ài)的孩子們。你們的媽媽現(xiàn)在和上帝在一起。她很快樂(lè)，有一天你們也都會(huì)死，如果你們是好人，也會(huì)去上帝那兒的。”
“可是為什么?”小瑪麗亞問(wèn)道，“為什么她現(xiàn)在就死了?爸爸，我們需要她呀!”
“這個(gè)世界是個(gè)苦難的地方，孩子們，我們無(wú)法理解上帝所作的每一件事。但是上帝愛(ài)我們，永遠(yuǎn)不要忘記這一點(diǎn)。你們的媽媽愛(ài)你們，也許她現(xiàn)在還可以看見(jiàn)你們。我們大家都應(yīng)努力工作，努力學(xué)習(xí)更多的知識(shí)，并且彼此友愛(ài)。你們能做到嗎?”
“是的，爸爸。”
我記得他們看上去非常難過(guò)，卻都那么仔細(xì)地聽(tīng)著。小愛(ài)米麗說(shuō)：“現(xiàn)在誰(shuí)當(dāng)媽媽呢?”
“瑪麗亞最大，她將協(xié)助我。你們都得聽(tīng)她的，按她說(shuō)的去做。你們的伊麗莎白姨媽也在這兒。也許她會(huì)住一陣子。”
伊麗莎白真的住下了。她比我妻子年長(zhǎng)，一直未婚。我們叫她布蘭韋爾姨媽。她來(lái)自英格蘭西南部康沃爾的一個(gè)叫潘贊斯的靠海的地方，那里溫暖而且充滿陽(yáng)光。但霍沃斯后面的荒野經(jīng)常很冷，整個(gè)冬天都刮著寒風(fēng)。布蘭韋爾姨媽討厭霍沃斯，但她后來(lái)一直住在這兒，幫我照料她妹妹的孩子們。她真是個(gè)心地善良的女人。
我為我的小瑪麗亞非常自豪。她只有8歲，但她像個(gè)大人那樣整天忙著。她幫弟弟妹妹洗澡、穿衣服;她帶他們玩耍、畫(huà)畫(huà)、讀書(shū)。她就是他們的小媽媽。
她自己能讀書(shū)而且讀得很好。我們家里總是有書(shū)和報(bào)紙，而我每天和孩子們談?wù)撨@些書(shū)報(bào)。我給他們講大人的事情：惠靈頓公爵及他在倫敦所做的重大事情。孩子們仔細(xì)傾聽(tīng)并試著去理解?，旣悂喗?jīng)常給別人念報(bào)紙，還問(wèn)我些問(wèn)題。她理解得比大多數(shù)成年人還好。
我知道我的孩子們非常聰明。但我常常整天都沒(méi)有時(shí)間和她們談話，我有自己的工作要做。于是在1824年，我把他們送進(jìn)了學(xué)校。
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