摸彩

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o’clock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 26th, but in this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took only about two hours, so it could begin at ten o’clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.

六月二十七日的早晨，晴朗无云，阳光灿烂，带着盛夏那种清新的暖意；繁花盛开，芳草丰美。将近十点钟，村里人开始聚到广场上，也就是邮局和银行之间的那片空地。有些镇子人多，摸彩要摸上两天，得从二十六日就开始；可这个村子只有三百来口人，整场摸彩不过两个钟头，上午十点开场，仍来得及让村民们赶回家吃晌午饭。

The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke into boisterous play, and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix—the villagers pronounced this name “Dellacroy”—eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at the boys, and the very small children rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.

当然，最先聚拢来的是孩子们。学校刚放暑假，那种自由自在的感觉，大多数孩子还不太受用；他们往往先安安静静凑在一处，过一阵才闹腾起来，说的话题也还离不开教室和老师、课本和挨骂。鲍比·马丁早已把口袋塞满了石头，别的男孩很快学他的样，专挑最光滑、最圆的捡；鲍比、哈里·琼斯和迪基·德拉克瓦——这个姓村里人念成“德拉克瓦伊”——最后在广场一角堆起一大堆石头，守着它，防别的男孩来抢。女孩们站在一边，彼此说着话，扭头看那些男孩，最小的孩子则在尘土里打滚，或是攥着哥哥姐姐的手。

Soon the men began to gather, surveying their own children, speaking of planting and rain, tractors and taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they smiled rather than laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters, came shortly after their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began to call to their children, and the children came reluctantly, having to be called four or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother’s grasping hand and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came quickly and took his place between his father and his oldest brother.

不多时，男人们也聚了过来，一边打量自家孩子，一边聊播种和雨水、拖拉机和税。他们站作一堆，离墙角那堆石头远远的，说笑话也压着嗓子，脸上是微笑，不是大笑。女人们穿着褪了色的家常裙和毛衣，随后跟着自家男人来了。她们互相打招呼，说几句闲话，走过去站到丈夫身边。很快，女人们站在丈夫旁边，开始喊自家孩子，孩子们磨磨蹭蹭地过来，得喊上四五遍。鲍比·马丁从他母亲伸来的手底下一低头，笑着跑回石头堆那儿。他父亲厉声一喝，鲍比赶紧过来，站到父亲和大哥中间。

The lottery was conducted—as were the square dances, the teen-age club, the Halloween program—by Mr. Summers, who had time and energy to devote to civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial man and he ran the coal business, and people were sorry for him, because he had no children and his wife was a scold. When he arrived in the square, carrying the black wooden box, there was a murmur of conversation among the villagers, and he waved and called, “Little late today, folks.” The postmaster, Mr. Graves, followed him, carrying a three-legged stool, and the stool was put in the center of the square and Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. The villagers kept their distance, leaving a space between themselves and the stool, and when Mr. Summers said, “Some of you fellows want to give me a hand?,” there was a hesitation before two men, Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter, came forward to hold the box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers stirred up the papers inside it.

摸彩由萨默斯先生主持——就像广场舞会、青少年俱乐部和万圣节活动一样——他有时间也有精力操办这些公众事务。他是个圆脸的、乐呵呵的人，做煤炭生意，大家都可怜他，因为他没有孩子，老婆又是个泼妇。他抱着那只黑木箱走进广场时，村民里响起一阵嗡嗡的说话声，他挥挥手，招呼道：“今天来得晚了点，乡亲们。”邮政局长格雷夫斯先生跟在他后头，拎着一只三条腿的凳子，凳子摆在广场正中，萨默斯先生把黑箱子搁在上面。村民们保持着距离，在自己和凳子之间空出一片地。萨默斯先生说“哪位来搭把手”的时候，众人迟疑了一下，才有两个人——马丁先生和他的大儿子巴克斯特——走上前，把箱子按稳在凳子上，好让萨默斯先生搅动里头的纸片。

The original paraphernalia for the lottery had been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on the stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born. Mr. Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but no one liked to upset even as much tradition as was represented by the black box. There was a story that the present box had been made with some pieces of the box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed when the first people settled down to make a village here. Every year, after the lottery, Mr. Summers began talking again about a new box, but every year the subject was allowed to fade off without anything’s being done. The black box grew shabbier each year; by now it was no longer completely black but splintered badly along one side to show the original wood color, and in some places faded or stained.

摸彩最早用的那套家伙什，早不知丢到哪儿去了，凳子上这只黑箱子，在镇里年纪最大的沃纳老头出生之前就已经在用。萨默斯先生常跟村民念叨该做只新箱子，可谁也不愿意去动摇哪怕只是这只黑箱子所代表的那么一点传统。有个说法是，现在这只箱子，是用它前一只箱子的几块木料拼的，而那前一只，是当年头一批人在这儿定居、建起村子的时候造的。每年摸彩过后，萨默斯先生又开始提做新箱子的事，可每年这话题都不了了之，什么也没做成。黑箱子一年比一年破旧；如今它已经不是通体乌黑，一侧裂得厉害，露出木头本来的颜色，有些地方还褪了色，沾了污渍。

Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter, held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers had stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much of the ritual had been forgotten or discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of paper substituted for the chips of wood that had been used for generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued, had been all very well when the village was tiny, but now that the population was more than three hundred and likely to keep on growing, it was necessary to use something that would fit more easily into the black box. The night before the lottery, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper and put them into the box, and it was then taken to the safe of Mr. Summers’ coal company and locked up until Mr. Summers was ready to take it to the square next morning. The rest of the year, the box was put away, sometimes one place, sometimes another; it had spent one year in Mr. Graves’ barn and another year underfoot in the post office, and sometimes it was set on a shelf in the Martin grocery and left there.

马丁先生和他的大儿子巴克斯特稳稳按住凳子上的黑箱子，直到萨默斯先生用手把纸片彻底搅匀。仪式里有太多东西被忘掉或废弃了，正因如此，萨默斯先生才得以说服大家，用纸片替下了世世代代沿用的木片。萨默斯先生的理由是：村子还小的时候，木片挺好；可如今人口三百出头，往后大概还要涨，就得用点更容易塞进黑箱子的东西。摸彩前一晚，萨默斯先生和格雷夫斯先生做好纸片，放进箱子，然后把箱子拿到萨默斯先生煤场的保险柜里锁起来，直到第二天早上萨默斯先生动身把它搬到广场。一年里其余的日子，箱子就收着，一时搁这儿，一时搁那儿；有一年待在格雷夫斯先生的谷仓里，又一年在邮局里被人踢来踢去，有时摆在马丁杂货铺的架子上，就那么撂着。

There was a great deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There were the lists to make up—of heads of families, heads of households in each family, members of each household in each family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the postmaster, as the official of the lottery; at one time, some people remembered, there had been a recital of some sort, performed by the official of the lottery, a perfunctory, tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each year; some people believed that the official of the lottery used to stand just so when he said or sang it, others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people, but years and years ago this part of the ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a ritual salute, which the official of the lottery had had to use in addressing each person who came up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with time, until now it was felt necessary only for the official to speak to each person approaching. Mr. Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt and blue jeans, with one hand resting carelessly on the black box, he seemed very proper and important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves and the Martins.

在萨默斯先生宣布摸彩开始之前，还有一大堆繁文缛节要走。先得把名单造好——各家的户主、各家里每一门的当家人、每一门里的成员。还得由邮政局长郑重其事地为萨默斯先生监誓，让他做摸彩的主持官。有些人记得，从前主持官还要念一段什么词，一段例行公事、不成调的吟唱，每年照例哗啦哗啦地念一遍；有人说主持官念它、唱它的时候得站成某个特定的姿势，也有人说他应当在人群里走动，可这部分仪式，许多许多年前就任它荒废了。从前还有一套礼节性的致意，主持官对每个上前从箱子里摸彩的人都得用上，可这也随时间变了样，如今大家只觉得，主持官对走上前来的每个人说句话就够了。这一整套，萨默斯先生都拿捏得很好；他穿着干净的白衬衫和蓝布裤，一只手随随便便搭在黑箱子上，一边没完没了地跟格雷夫斯先生和马丁一家说话，一边显得又体面又要紧。

Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers, Mrs. Hutchinson came hurriedly along the path to the square, her sweater thrown over her shoulders, and slid into place in the back of the crowd. “Clean forgot what day it was,” she said to Mrs. Delacroix, who stood next to her, and they both laughed softly. “Thought my old man was out back stacking wood,” Mrs. Hutchinson went on, “and then I looked out the window and the kids was gone, and then I remembered it was the twenty-seventh and came a-running.” She dried her hands on her apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said, “You’re in time, though. They’re still talking away up there.”

萨默斯先生总算说完了话，转身面向聚齐的村民，正在这时，哈钦森太太急匆匆顺着小路往广场赶来，毛衣搭在肩上，一溜烟挤进人群后头站定。“完全忘了今天是啥日子，”她跟身边的德拉克瓦太太说，两人都轻声笑了。“还当我家那口子在后院码柴呢，”哈钦森太太接着说，“一扭头往窗外看，孩子也不见了，这才想起来是二十七号，撒腿就跑。”她在围裙上擦了擦手，德拉克瓦太太说：“你还赶得上呢，上头还在那儿说个没完。”

Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and children standing near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her way through the crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through; two or three people said, in voices just loud enough to be heard across the crowd, “Here comes your Mrs., Hutchinson,” and “Bill, she made it after all.” Mrs. Hutchinson reached her husband, and Mr. Summers, who had been waiting, said cheerfully, “Thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie.” Mrs. Hutchinson said, grinning, “Wouldn’t have me leave m’dishes in the sink, now, would you, Joe?,” and soft laughter ran through the crowd as the people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson’s arrival.

哈钦森太太伸长脖子在人群里张望，看见丈夫和孩子们站在靠前的地方。她拍了拍德拉克瓦太太的胳膊算作告别，动身往人群里挤。众人和和气气地让开让她过；有两三个人开口，声音正好大到能让整群人听见：“哈钦森，你家太太来啦，”还有“比尔，她到底还是赶上了。”哈钦森太太挤到丈夫身边，一直等着的萨默斯先生乐呵呵地说：“还当我们得撇下你先来了呢，苔西。”哈钦森太太咧嘴一笑：“总不能让我把碗撂在水池里就来吧，是不是，乔？”人群里荡起一阵轻笑，哈钦森太太一到，大伙儿又挪回各自的位置。

“Well, now,” Mr. Summers said soberly, “guess we better get started, get this over with, so’s we can go back to work. Anybody ain’t here?”

“好了，”萨默斯先生一本正经地说，“咱们最好开始吧，把这事了了，好回去干活。有谁没到？”

“Dunbar,” several people said. “Dunbar, Dunbar.”

“邓巴，”有好几个人说，“邓巴，邓巴。”

Mr. Summers consulted his list. “Clyde Dunbar,” he said. “That’s right. He’s broke his leg, hasn’t he? Who’s drawing for him?”

萨默斯先生查了查名单。“克莱德·邓巴，”他说，“没错。他把腿摔断了，是吧？谁替他摸？”

“Me, I guess,” a woman said, and Mr. Summers turned to look at her. “Wife draws for her husband,” Mr. Summers said. “Don’t you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janey?” Although Mr. Summers and everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well, it was the business of the official of the lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an expression of polite interest while Mrs. Dunbar answered.

“我吧，我想，”一个女人说，萨默斯先生转过头看她。“老婆替丈夫摸，”萨默斯先生说，“你没个大小子替你摸吗，珍妮？”尽管萨默斯先生和村里别的人对答案都一清二楚，可照规矩，正式问这类问题正是主持官的差事。萨默斯先生等着邓巴太太回答，脸上是一副客气的、饶有兴致的神情。

“Horace’s not but sixteen yet,” Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. “Guess I gotta fill in for the old man this year.”

“霍拉斯才十六，”邓巴太太带着几分歉意说，“看来今年得我替当家的顶上了。”

“Right,” Mr. Summers said. He made a note on the list he was holding. Then he asked, “Watson boy drawing this year?”

“好，”萨默斯先生说。他在手里的名单上记了一笔。接着问：“沃森家的小子今年自己摸？”

A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand. “Here,” he said. “I’m drawing for m’mother and me.” He blinked his eyes nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said things like “Good fellow, Jack,” and “Glad to see your mother’s got a man to do it.”

人群里一个高个子男孩举起手。“在这儿，”他说，“我替我妈和我摸。”他紧张地眨着眼，低下头，人群里有几个声音说着“好样的，杰克”，还有“你妈总算有个男子汉替她摸了，真好”。

“Well,” Mr. Summers said, “guess that’s everyone. Old Man Warner make it?”

“好，”萨默斯先生说，“大概人都齐了。沃纳老头来了没？”

“Here,” a voice said, and Mr. Summers nodded.

“在这儿，”一个声音说，萨默斯先生点点头。

A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. “All ready?” he called. “Now, I’ll read the names—heads of families first—and the men come up and take a paper out of the box. Keep the paper folded in your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn. Everything clear?”

萨默斯先生清了清嗓子，看了看名单，人群里骤然静了下来。“都准备好了？”他喊道，“现在，我念名字——先念各家户主——念到的男人上前，从箱子里摸一张纸。摸了就攥在手心里叠着，别看，等所有人都摸过再说。都清楚了？”

The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions; most of them were quiet, wetting their lips, not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and said, “Adams.” A man disengaged himself from the crowd and came forward. “Hi, Steve,” Mr. Summers said, and Mr. Adams said, “Hi, Joe.” They grinned at one another humorlessly and nervously. Then Mr. Adams reached into the black box and took out a folded paper. He held it firmly by one corner as he turned and went hastily back to his place in the crowd, where he stood a little apart from his family, not looking down at his hand.

这事大家做过太多回了，听指示也只听一半；多数人静默着，舔着嘴唇，不东张西望。随后萨默斯先生高高举起一只手，说：“亚当斯。”一个男人从人群里抽身出来，走上前。“嗨，史蒂夫，”萨默斯先生说，亚当斯先生说：“嗨，乔。”两人朝对方咧嘴一笑，笑得没有笑意，透着紧张。接着亚当斯先生把手伸进黑箱子，摸出一张叠好的纸。他捏紧纸的一角，转身匆匆回到人群里自己的位置，站得离家人略远，不去看自己手里那张纸。

“Allen,” Mr. Summers said. “Anderson. . . . Bentham.”

“艾伦，”萨默斯先生说，“安德森……本瑟姆。”

“Seems like there’s no time at all between lotteries any more,” Mrs. Delacroix said to Mrs. Graves in the back row. “Seems like we got through with the last one only last week.”

“现在两回摸彩之间，简直没个空当，”德拉克瓦太太在后排跟格雷夫斯太太说，“感觉上回那场，就跟上礼拜才摸完似的。”

“Time sure goes fast,” Mrs. Graves said.

“日子过得可真快，”格雷夫斯太太说。

“Clark. . . . Delacroix.”

“克拉克……德拉克瓦。”

“There goes my old man,” Mrs. Delacroix said. She held her breath while her husband went forward.

“我家那口子上了，”德拉克瓦太太说。丈夫上前时，她屏住了呼吸。

“Dunbar,” Mr. Summers said, and Mrs. Dunbar went steadily to the box while one of the women said, “Go on, Janey,” and another said, “There she goes.”

“邓巴，”萨默斯先生说，邓巴太太稳稳走向箱子，一个女人说着“去吧，珍妮”，另一个说“她上去了”。

“We’re next,” Mrs. Graves said. She watched while Mr. Graves came around from the side of the box, greeted Mr. Summers gravely, and selected a slip of paper from the box. By now, all through the crowd there were men holding the small folded papers in their large hands, turning them over and over nervously. Mrs. Dunbar and her two sons stood together, Mrs. Dunbar holding the slip of paper.

“下一个就是我们，”格雷夫斯太太说。她看着格雷夫斯先生从箱子侧边绕过来，一脸严肃地跟萨默斯先生打了招呼，从箱子里挑出一张纸片。这会儿，整个人群里，男人们都用大手攥着那小小的、叠好的纸片，紧张地翻来覆去。邓巴太太和两个儿子站在一处，纸片攥在邓巴太太手里。

“Harburt. . . . Hutchinson.”

“哈伯特……哈钦森。”

“Get up there, Bill,” Mrs. Hutchinson said, and the people near her laughed.

“上去啊，比尔，”哈钦森太太说，她身边的人都笑了。

“Jones.”

“琼斯。”

“They do say,” Mr. Adams said to Old Man Warner, who stood next to him, “that over in the north village they’re talking of giving up the lottery.”

“都说啊，”亚当斯先生对站在身旁的沃纳老头说，“北边那个村子，正商量着要不搞摸彩了。”

Old Man Warner snorted. “Pack of crazy fools,” he said. “Listening to the young folks, nothing’s good enough for them. Next thing you know, they’ll be wanting to go back to living in caves, nobody work any more, live that way for a while. Used to be a saying about ‘Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.’ First thing you know, we’d all be eating stewed chickweed and acorns. There’s always been a lottery,” he added petulantly. “Bad enough to see young Joe Summers up there joking with everybody.”

沃纳老头哼了一声。“一群疯癫的傻子，”他说，“听那些年轻人的，什么都入不了他们的眼。回头你瞧着吧，他们就该想着搬回洞里去住了，谁也不干活，就那么过上一阵。从前有句话——‘六月摸彩，苞谷压秆。’你等着瞧，我们全都得去啃炖繁缕和橡子。摸彩这事向来就有，”他没好气地补上一句，“光看着小乔·萨默斯站上头跟人人打趣，就够糟心的了。”

“Some places have already quit lotteries,” Mrs. Adams said.

“有些地方已经不摸了，”亚当斯太太说。

“Nothing but trouble in that,” Old Man Warner said stoutly. “Pack of young fools.”

“那样只会招祸，没别的，”沃纳老头硬邦邦地说，“一群年轻傻子。”

“Martin.” And Bobby Martin watched his father go forward. “Overdyke. . . . Percy.”

“马丁。”鲍比·马丁看着父亲走上前。“奥弗代克……珀西。”

“I wish they’d hurry,” Mrs. Dunbar said to her older son. “I wish they’d hurry.”

“真希望他们快点，”邓巴太太对大儿子说，“真希望他们快点。”

“They’re almost through,” her son said.

“快摸完了，”儿子说。

“You get ready to run tell Dad,” Mrs. Dunbar said.

“你准备好，一完事就跑去告诉你爸，”邓巴太太说。

Mr. Summers called his own name and then stepped forward precisely and selected a slip from the box. Then he called, “Warner.”

萨默斯先生念到自己的名字，随即一板一眼地上前，从箱子里挑了一张纸片。接着他念道：“沃纳。”

“Seventy-seventh year I been in the lottery,” Old Man Warner said as he went through the crowd. “Seventy-seventh time.”

“我摸彩摸到第七十七个年头了，”沃纳老头一边穿过人群一边说，“第七十七回。”

“Watson.” The tall boy came awkwardly through the crowd. Someone said, “Don’t be nervous, Jack,” and Mr. Summers said, “Take your time, son.”

“沃森。”那高个子男孩局促地穿过人群。有人说：“别紧张，杰克。”萨默斯先生说：“不急，孩子。”

“Zanini.”

“扎尼尼。”

After that, there was a long pause, a breathless pause, until Mr. Summers, holding his slip of paper in the air, said, “All right, fellows.” For a minute, no one moved, and then all the slips of paper were opened. Suddenly, all the women began to speak at once, saying, “Who is it?,” “Who’s got it?,” “Is it the Dunbars?,” “Is it the Watsons?” Then the voices began to say, “It’s Hutchinson. It’s Bill,” “Bill Hutchinson’s got it.”

之后是长长的一段停顿，一段令人透不过气的停顿，直到萨默斯先生把自己那张纸片举在半空，说：“好了，各位。”有那么一分钟，谁也没动，然后所有的纸片都被打开了。忽然，所有女人一齐开口，说着“是谁？”“谁摸着了？”“是邓巴家吗？”“是沃森家吗？”接着那些声音开始说：“是哈钦森。是比尔。”“比尔·哈钦森摸着了。”

“Go tell your father,” Mrs. Dunbar said to her older son.

“去告诉你爸，”邓巴太太对大儿子说。

People began to look around to see the Hutchinsons. Bill Hutchinson was standing quiet, staring down at the paper in his hand. Suddenly, Tessie Hutchinson shouted to Mr. Summers, “You didn’t give him time enough to take any paper he wanted. I saw you. It wasn’t fair!”

人们开始四下张望，去看哈钦森一家。比尔·哈钦森静静站着，低头盯着手里那张纸。突然，苔西·哈钦森冲萨默斯先生喊道：“你没给他足够的工夫去挑他想要的那张。我看见了。这不公平！”

“Be a good sport, Tessie,” Mrs. Delacroix called, and Mrs. Graves said, “All of us took the same chance.”

“输得起点儿，苔西，”德拉克瓦太太喊道，格雷夫斯太太说：“我们大家碰的运气都一样。”

“Shut up, Tessie,” Bill Hutchinson said.

“闭嘴，苔西，”比尔·哈钦森说。

“Well, everyone,” Mr. Summers said, “that was done pretty fast, and now we’ve got to be hurrying a little more to get done in time.” He consulted his next list. “Bill,” he said, “you draw for the Hutchinson family. You got any other households in the Hutchinsons?”

“好了，各位，”萨默斯先生说，“这一轮摸得挺快，现在我们得再赶一赶，好按时收场。”他查了查下一张名单。“比尔，”他说，“你替哈钦森这一家摸。哈钦森名下，还有别的门户吗？”

“There’s Don and Eva,” Mrs. Hutchinson yelled. “Make them take their chance!”

“还有唐和伊娃，”哈钦森太太嚷道，“让他们也来碰碰运气！”

“Daughters draw with their husbands’ families, Tessie,” Mr. Summers said gently. “You know that as well as anyone else.”

“出嫁的女儿跟夫家一块儿摸，苔西，”萨默斯先生温和地说，“这规矩你和谁都一样清楚。”

“It wasn’t fair,” Tessie said.

“这不公平，”苔西说。

“I guess not, Joe,” Bill Hutchinson said regretfully. “My daughter draws with her husband’s family, that’s only fair. And I’ve got no other family except the kids.”

“我看是没有，乔，”比尔·哈钦森带着几分无奈说，“我女儿跟夫家一块儿摸，这才在理。除了几个孩子，我没别的家口了。”

“Then, as far as drawing for families is concerned, it’s you,” Mr. Summers said in explanation, “and as far as drawing for households is concerned, that’s you, too. Right?”

“那么，论按家摸，就是你，”萨默斯先生解释道，“论按门户摸，也还是你。对吧？”

“Right,” Bill Hutchinson said.

“对，”比尔·哈钦森说。

“How many kids, Bill?” Mr. Summers asked formally.

“几个孩子，比尔？”萨默斯先生按规矩问。

“Three,” Bill Hutchinson said. “There’s Bill, Jr., and Nancy, and little Dave. And Tessie and me.”

“三个，”比尔·哈钦森说，“小比尔、南希，还有小戴夫。再加上苔西和我。”

“All right, then,” Mr. Summers said. “Harry, you got their tickets back?”

“那好，”萨默斯先生说，“哈里，他们的纸片你收回来了？”

Mr. Graves nodded and held up the slips of paper. “Put them in the box, then,” Mr. Summers directed. “Take Bill’s and put it in.”

格雷夫斯先生点点头，举起那几张纸片。“那就放进箱子里，”萨默斯先生吩咐道，“把比尔那张拿去，放进去。”

“I think we ought to start over,” Mrs. Hutchinson said, as quietly as she could. “I tell you it wasn’t fair. You didn’t give him time enough to choose. Everybody saw that.”

“我看我们该重来一遍，”哈钦森太太说，声音压得尽量低，“我跟你们说了这不公平。你们没给他足够的工夫去挑。人人都看见了。”

Mr. Graves had selected the five slips and put them in the box, and he dropped all the papers but those onto the ground, where the breeze caught them and lifted them off.

格雷夫斯先生挑出那五张纸片放进箱子，把其余的纸片全撒在地上，微风把它们卷起，吹走了。

“Listen, everybody,” Mrs. Hutchinson was saying to the people around her.

“听我说，各位，”哈钦森太太对身边的人说着。

“Ready, Bill?” Mr. Summers asked, and Bill Hutchinson, with one quick glance around at his wife and children, nodded.

“准备好了吗，比尔？”萨默斯先生问，比尔·哈钦森朝妻子和孩子们飞快地扫了一眼，点了点头。

“Remember,” Mr. Summers said, “take the slips and keep them folded until each person has taken one. Harry, you help little Dave.” Mr. Graves took the hand of the little boy, who came willingly with him up to the box. “Take a paper out of the box, Davy,” Mr. Summers said. Davy put his hand into the box and laughed. “Take just one paper,” Mr. Summers said. “Harry, you hold it for him.” Mr. Graves took the child’s hand and removed the folded paper from the tight fist and held it while little Dave stood next to him and looked up at him wonderingly.

“记住，”萨默斯先生说，“摸了纸片就叠着，等每个人都摸过。哈里，你帮一把小戴夫。”格雷夫斯先生牵起这小男孩的手，孩子乖乖地跟他走到箱子跟前。“从箱子里摸一张纸出来，戴维，”萨默斯先生说。戴维把手伸进箱子，笑了起来。“只摸一张，”萨默斯先生说，“哈里，你替他拿着。”格雷夫斯先生握住孩子的手，从那攥紧的小拳头里取出叠好的纸片，替他拿着，小戴夫站在他旁边，仰起脸茫然地看着他。

“Nancy next,” Mr. Summers said. Nancy was twelve, and her school friends breathed heavily as she went forward, switching her skirt, and took a slip daintily from the box. “Bill, Jr.,” Mr. Summers said, and Billy, his face red and his feet overlarge, nearly knocked the box over as he got a paper out. “Tessie,” Mr. Summers said. She hesitated for a minute, looking around defiantly, and then set her lips and went up to the box. She snatched a paper out and held it behind her.

“接下来南希，”萨默斯先生说。南希十二岁，她走上前时，学校里的同伴都大声喘着气，她甩着裙子，斯斯文文地从箱子里摸出一张纸片。“小比尔，”萨默斯先生说，比利涨红了脸，一双脚显得太大，摸纸片时差点把箱子撞翻。“苔西，”萨默斯先生说。她迟疑了一会儿，带着挑衅的神气四下张望，然后抿紧嘴唇，走到箱子跟前。她一把抓出一张纸片，攥在身后。

“Bill,” Mr. Summers said, and Bill Hutchinson reached into the box and felt around, bringing his hand out at last with the slip of paper in it.

“比尔，”萨默斯先生说，比尔·哈钦森把手伸进箱子摸索了一阵，最后抽出手来，指间夹着那张纸片。

The crowd was quiet. A girl whispered, “I hope it’s not Nancy,” and the sound of the whisper reached the edges of the crowd.

人群静默着。一个女孩低声说：“但愿别是南希。”这句耳语一直传到人群的外围。

“It’s not the way it used to be,” Old Man Warner said clearly. “People ain’t the way they used to be.”

“跟从前不一样了，”沃纳老头清清楚楚地说，“人也不像从前的人了。”

“All right,” Mr. Summers said. “Open the papers. Harry, you open little Dave’s.”

“好，”萨默斯先生说，“打开纸片。哈里，你打开小戴夫那张。”

Mr. Graves opened the slip of paper and there was a general sigh through the crowd as he held it up and everyone could see that it was blank. Nancy and Bill, Jr., opened theirs at the same time, and both beamed and laughed, turning around to the crowd and holding their slips of paper above their heads.

格雷夫斯先生打开那张纸片，把它举起来，人群里响起一片舒气声，因为大家都看见那是张白纸。南希和小比尔同时打开自己那张，两人都眉开眼笑，转身朝着人群，把纸片举过头顶。

“Tessie,” Mr. Summers said. There was a pause, and then Mr. Summers looked at Bill Hutchinson, and Bill unfolded his paper and showed it. It was blank.

“苔西，”萨默斯先生说。一阵停顿，然后萨默斯先生看向比尔·哈钦森，比尔展开自己那张纸，给大家看。是张白纸。

“It’s Tessie,” Mr. Summers said, and his voice was hushed. “Show us her paper, Bill.”

“是苔西，”萨默斯先生说，声音低了下去，“把她那张给我们看看，比尔。”

Bill Hutchinson went over to his wife and forced the slip of paper out of her hand. It had a black spot on it, the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy pencil in the coal-company office. Bill Hutchinson held it up, and there was a stir in the crowd.

比尔·哈钦森走到妻子跟前，硬把那张纸片从她手里掰出来。纸上有个黑点，就是萨默斯先生前一晚在煤场办公室里用那支粗铅笔点上的黑点。比尔·哈钦森把它举起来，人群骚动起来。

“All right, folks,” Mr. Summers said. “Let’s finish quickly.”

“好了，乡亲们，”萨默斯先生说，“咱们快点了结。”

Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box. Mrs. Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. “Come on,” she said. “Hurry up.”

尽管村民们忘了仪式，丢了最早那只黑箱子，他们却还记得要用石头。男孩们早先堆好的那堆石头正等着；地上还散着石头，混着从箱子里飘出来、被风吹得四处翻滚的纸屑。德拉克瓦太太挑了一块大得要两只手才抱得起的石头，转向邓巴太太。“来啊，”她说，“快点。”

Mrs. Dunbar had small stones in both hands, and she said, gasping for breath. “I can’t run at all. You’ll have to go ahead and I’ll catch up with you.”

邓巴太太两只手里都是小石头，她喘着气说：“我根本跑不动。你先上，我随后就赶上你。”

The children had stones already, and someone gave little Davy Hutchinson a few pebbles.

孩子们早已握着石头，有人往小戴维·哈钦森手里塞了几颗石子。

Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. “It isn’t fair,” she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head.

这时苔西·哈钦森已被逼到一片空出来的场地正中，村民们朝她围拢过来，她绝望地伸出双手。“这不公平，”她说。一块石头打中了她的太阳穴。

Old Man Warner was saying, “Come on, come on, everyone.” Steve Adams was in the front of the crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him.

沃纳老头说着：“来吧，来吧，大家一起上。”史蒂夫·亚当斯站在村民人群的最前头，格雷夫斯太太在他旁边。

“It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.

“这不公平，这不对，”哈钦森太太尖叫着，紧接着，众人朝她扑了上去。