A Service of Love
Joe came to New York from the Middle West, dreaming about painting. Delia came to New York from the South,dreaming about music. Joe and Delia met in a studio.Before long they were good friends and got married.
They had only a small flat to live in ,but they were happy.They loved each other, and they were both interested in art.Everything was fine until one day they found they had spent all their money.
Delia decided to give music lessons. One afternoon she said to her husband:
"Joe,dear, I've found a pupil,a general's daughter.She is a sweet girl. I'm to give three lessons a week and get $5 a lesson."
But Joe was not glad.
"But how about me?"he said."Do you think I'm going to watch you work while I play with my art?No,I want to earn some money too."
"Joe, dear, you are silly,"said Delia."You must keep at your studies. We can live quite happily on $15 a week."
"Well, perhaps I can sell some of my pictures,"said Joe.
Every day they parted in the morning and met in the evening. A week passed and Delia brought home fifteen dollars, but she looked a little tired.
"Clementina sometimes gets on my nerves. I'm afraid she doesn't practise enough. But the general is the dearest old man! I wish you could know him,Joe."
And then Joe took eighteen dollars out of his pocket.
"I've sold one of my pictures to a man from Peoria,"he said, "and he has ordered another."
"I'm so glad,"said Delia."Thirty-three dollars!We never had so much to spend before. We'll have a good supper tonight."
Next week Joe came home and put another eighteen dollars on the table. In half an hour Delia came, her right hand in a bandage.
"What's the matter with your hand?"said Joe. Delia laughed and said:
"Oh, a funny thing happened! Clemantina gave me a plate of soup and spilled some of it on my hand.She was very sorry for it. And so was the old general.But why are you looking at me like that,Joe?"
"What time this afternoon did you burn your hand, Delia?"
"Five o'clock, I think. The iron-I mean the soup-was ready about five, Why?"
"Delia, come and sit here,"said Joe. He drew her to the couch and sat beside her.
"What do you do every day, Delia? Do you really give music lesson? Tell me the truth."
She began to cry.
"I couldn't get any pupils,"she said,"So I got a place in a laundry ironing shirts. This afternoon a girl accidentally set down an iron on my hand and I got a bad burn. But tell me,Joe,how did you guess that I wasn't giving music lessons?"
"It's very simple,"said Joe."I knew all about your bandages because I had to send them upstairs to a girl in the laundry who had and accident with a hot iron. You see, I work in the engine-room of the same laundry where you work."
"And your pictures? Did you sell and to that man from Peoria?"
"Well, your general with his Clementina is an invention, and so is my man from Peoria."
And then they both laughed.
译文
爱的奉献
乔怀着对绘画艺术的梦想,从美国中西部来到纽约.德丽雅怀着对音乐的梦想,从美国南方来到纽约.他俩在工作室里相识,不久便结为好友,继而结婚成家.
他们只有一套小小的住房,但是生活很幸福.他们相亲相爱,又都醉心于艺术.诸事顺心如意.可是有一天,他们发现钱已花光了.
德丽雅决定去当音乐家庭教师.一天下午,她对丈夫说：
“乔,亲爱的,我找到一个学生啦,是位将军的女儿,非常可爱.我每周给她上三节课,每节课5美元.”
然而乔并不感到高兴.
“那我怎么办?”他说.“你以为我会看着你工作而在一旁搞自己的艺术吗?不行,我也得挣点钱.”
“乔,亲爱的,你真傻,”德丽雅说.“你还是得坚持价钱的学习.我们一礼拜有15美元就可以过得挺不错了.”（注：这是十九世纪八九十年代,这点钱足够了）
“好吧,也许我可以卖出几幅画,”乔说.
此后,他们早上分手晚上见,每天如此.一个星期过去了,德丽雅带回家15美元,可是她显得有点疲乏.
“克莱门蒂娜有时弄得我头疼.她恐怕练习得不够.不过那位将军倒是个好老头儿!你要能认识他就好了,乔.”
这时乔从口袋里掏出18美元,说：
“我卖了一幅画给一位皮奥里亚来的人.他另外还定购了一幅.”
“太好了,33美元!”德丽雅说.“我们以前从没有这么多的钱可花.今晚我们可以美食一顿了.”
第二个星期,乔先回家了,又拿出18美元放在桌上.半小时后德丽雅回来了,右手打着绷带.
“你的手怎么啦?”乔问.
德丽雅笑笑说：“噢,出了件可笑的事.克莱门蒂娜端给我一盘汤,溅到我手上,她非常难过,将军也很过意不去.哎,你干嘛这样看着我,乔?”
“德丽雅,你下午什么时候烫伤手的?”
“是5点钟吧,我想.那熨斗－－我是说那盘汤－－是5点左右做好的.怎么啦?”
“德丽雅,来,坐到这儿,”乔说.他把她拉到沙发上,然后在她身旁坐下.
“德丽雅,你每天干些什么?你真的是在教音乐课吗?对我说实话.”
她哭了起来.
“我没找到什么学生,”她说.“所以我就到一家洗衣店找了个烫衣服的活儿.今天下午,一个姑娘不小心,把熨斗放在我手上了,我就给烫伤了.告诉我,乔,你怎么猜到我不是在教音乐课?”
“很简单,”乔说.“你手上的绷带我完全知道是怎么回事,因为下午是我把绷带送到洗衣店楼上一个被熨斗烫伤的姑娘那儿.知道了吧,我就在你做事的那家洗衣店的机器间工作.”
“那你的画呢?你到底卖了些画给那个皮奥里亚人吗?”
“嘿嘿,你的将军和他女儿克莱门蒂娜是瞎编的,我那位皮奥里亚人也一样.”
说完,俩人都开心地笑了.
是这篇么?