Although it was so brilliantly fine – the blue sky powdered with gold and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques[1] – Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. The air was motionless, but when you opened your mouth there was just a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip, and now and again a leaf came drifting–from nowhere, from the sky. Miss Brill put up her hand and touched her fur. Dear little thing! It was nice to feel it again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth powder, given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. “What has been happening to me?” said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red eiderdown! . . . But the nose, which was of some black composition, wasn’t at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind–a little dab of black sealing-wax when the time came–when it was absolutely necessary . . . Little rogue! Yes, she really felt like that about it. Little rogue biting its tail just by her left ear. She could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it. She felt a tingling in her hands and arms, but that [Page 183] came from walking, she supposed. And when she breathed, something light and sad–no, not sad, exactly–something gentle seemed to move in her bosom.

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There were a number of people out this afternoon, far more than last Sunday. And the band sounded louder and gayer. That was because the Season had begun. For although the band played all the year round on Sundays, out of season it was never the same. It was like some one playing with only the family to listen; it didn’t care how it played if there weren’t any strangers present. Wasn’t the conductor wearing a new coat, too? She was sure it was new. He scraped with his foot and flapped his arms like a rooster about to crow, and the bandsmen sitting in the green rotunda blew out their cheeks and glared at the music. Now there came a little “flutey” bit–very pretty!–a little chain of bright drops. She was sure it would be repeated. It was; she lifted her head and smiled.

Only two people shared her “special” seat: a fine old man in a velvet coat, his hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron. They did not speak. This was disappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversation. She had become really quite expert, she thought, at listening as though she didn’t listen, at sitting in other people’s lives just for a minute while they talked round her. [Page 184]

She glanced, sideways, at the old couple. Perhaps they would go soon. Last Sunday, too, hadn’t been as interesting as usual. An Englishman and his wife, he wearing a dreadful Panama hat and she button boots. And she’d gone on the whole time about how she ought to wear spectacles; she knew she needed them; but that it was no good getting any; they’d be sure to break and they’d never keep on. And he’d been so patient. He’d suggested everything–gold rims, the kind that curve round your ears, little pads inside the bridge. No, nothing would please her. “They’ll always be sliding down my nose!” Miss Brill had wanted to shake her.

The old people sat on a bench, still as statues. Never mind, there was always the crowd to watch. To and fro, in front of the flower beds and the band rotunda, the couples and groups paraded, stopped to talk, to greet, to buy a handful of flowers from the old beggar who had his tray fixed to the railings. Little children ran among them, swooping and laughing; little boys with big white silk bows under their chins, little girls, little French dolls, dressed up in velvet and lace. And sometimes a tiny staggerer came suddenly rocking into the open from under the trees, stopped, stared, as suddenly sat down “flop,” until its small high-stepping mother, like a young hen, rushed scolding to its rescue. Other people sat on the benches and green chairs, but they were nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, [Page 185] and–Miss Brill had often noticed–there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as though they’d just come from dark little rooms or even–even cupboards!

Behind the rotunda the slender trees with yellow leaves down drooping, and through them just a line of sea, and beyond the blue sky with gold-veined clouds.

Tum-tum-tum tiddle-um! tiddle-um! tum tiddley-um tum ta! blew the band.

Two young girls in red came by and two young soldiers in blue met them, and they laughed and paired and went off arm-in-arm. Two peasant women with funny straw hats passed, gravely, leading beautiful smoke-coloured donkeys. A cold, pale nun hurried by. A beautiful woman came along and dropped her bunch of violets, and a little boy ran after to hand them to her, and she took them and threw them away as if they’d been poisoned. Dear me! Miss Brill didn’t know whether to admire that or not! And now an ermine toque and a gentleman in gray met just in front of her. He was tall, stiff, dignified, and she was wearing the ermine toque she’d bought when her hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the same colour as the shabby ermine, and her hand, in its cleaned glove, lifted to dab her lips, was a tiny yellowish paw. Oh, she was so pleased to see him–delighted! She rather thought they were going [Page 186] to meet that afternoon. She described where she’d been–everywhere, here, there, along by the sea. The day was so charming–didn’t he agree? And wouldn’t he, perhaps? . . . But he shook his head, lighted a cigarette, slowly breathed a great deep puff into her face, and even while she was still talking and laughing, flicked the match away and walked on. The ermine toque was alone; she smiled more brightly than ever. But even the band seemed to know what she was feeling and played more softly, played tenderly, and the drum beat, “The Brute! The Brute!” over and over. What would she do? What was going to happen now? But as Miss Brill wondered, the ermine toque turned, raised her hand as though she’d seen someone else, much nicer, just over there, and pattered away. And the band changed again and played more quickly, more gayly than ever, and the old couple on Miss Brill’s seat got up and marched away, and such a funny old man with long whiskers hobbled along in time to the music and was nearly knocked over by four girls walking abreast.

Oh, how fascinating it was! How she enjoyed it! How she loved sitting here, watching it all! It was like a play. It was exactly like a play. Who could believe the sky at the back wasn’t painted? But it wasn’t till a little brown dog trotted on solemn and then slowly trotted off, like a little “theatre” dog, a little dog that had been drugged, that Miss Brill discovered what it was [Page 187] that made it so exciting. They were all on stage. They weren’t only the audience, not only looking on; they were acting. Even she had a part and came every Sunday. No doubt somebody would have noticed if she hadn’t been there; she was part of the performance after all. How strange she’d never thought of it like that before! And yet it explained why she made such point of starting from home at just the same time each week–so as not to be late for the performance–and it also explained why she had a queer, shy feeling at telling her English pupils how she spent her Sunday afternoons. No wonder! Miss Brill nearly laughed out loud. She was on the stage. She thought of the old invalid gentleman to whom she read the newspaper four afternoons a week while he slept in the garden. She had got quite used to the frail head on the cotton pillow, the hollowed eyes, the open mouth and the high pinched nose. If he’d been dead she mightn’t have noticed for weeks; she wouldn’t have minded. But suddenly he knew he was having the paper read to him by an actress! “An actress!” The old head lifted; two points of light quivered in the old eyes. “An actress–are ye?” And Miss Brill smoothed the newspaper as though it were the manuscript of her part and said gently; “Yes, I have been an actress for a long time.”

The band had been having a rest. Now they started again. And what they played was warm, [Page 188] sunny, yet there was just a faint chill–a something, what was it?–not sadness–no, not sadness–a something that made you want to sing. The tune lifted, lifted, the light shone; and it seemed to Miss Brill that in another moment all of them, all the whole company, would begin singing. The young ones, the laughing ones who were moving together, they would begin and the men’s voices, very resolute and brave, would join them. And then she too, she too, and the others on the benches–they would come in with a kind of accompaniment–something low, that scarcely rose or fell, something so beautiful–moving. . . . And Miss Brill’s eyes filled with tears and she looked smiling at all the other members of the company. Yes, we understand, we understand, she thought–though what they understood she didn’t know.

Just at that moment a boy and girl came and sat down where the old couple had been. They were beautifully dressed; they were in love. The hero and heroine, of course, just arrived from his father’s yacht. And still soundlessly singing, still with that trembling smile, Miss Brill prepared to listen.

“No, not now,” said the girl. “Not here, I can’t.”

“But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there?” asked the boy. “Why does she come here at all–who wants her? Why doesn’t she keep her silly old mug at home?” [Page 189]

“It’s her fu-ur which is so funny,” giggled the girl. “It’s exactly like a fried whiting.”

“Ah, be off with you!” said the boy in an angry whisper. Then: “Tell me, ma petite chère–”

“No, not here,” said the girl. “Not yet.”

. . . . . . .

On her way home she usually bought a slice of honeycake at the baker’s. It was her Sunday treat. Sometimes there was an almond in her slice, sometimes not. It made a great difference. If there was an almond it was like carrying home a tiny present–a surprise–something that might very well not have been there. She hurried on the almond Sundays and struck the match for the kettle in quite a dashing way.

But to-day she passed the baker’s by, climbed the stairs, went into the little dark room–her room like a cupboard–and sat down on the red eiderdown. She sat there for a long time. The box that the fur came out of was on the bed. She unclasped the necklet quickly; quickly, without looking, laid it inside. But when she put the lid on she thought she heard something crying.

Brill 小姐是英国人，独自生活在法国，靠教几个孩子英语、给病人作伴谋生。她是个老姑娘，孤独、敏感，很容易受到伤害。这一天在公园里，她看到眼前演绎出的各色人生，开始感到自己也是这人生之剧中的参与者，喜悦之情涌上心头。
正在此时，她听到了旁边一对年轻恋人谈话中对她的蔑视和嫌弃。故事反映了那个社会的残酷，也反映出作为个人希望在人类群体中获得生命的价值的理
相

批注ITI: Jardins Publiques 法文，同英文中publicgarden
批注[T21: 由于经常来公园，Bri 小姐认为这是她的专座位

衣相碧中金的委，双三据荐一限自大的罪花毛处，不有个身财高大的立人大，笔直业处结店裙放着长丝活。They did not speak This was disappointing, for Miss Brillreally quite expert, she thought, atalwavs looked forward to the conversation. She hlistening as though she didn’t listen, at sitting in other people’s lives just for a minute while thevtalked around her.常失望。因为Bms姐点是班得别着别人说记十分在行地和用别人在她周围谈话的她贵得自己能够十分在行地不动声色地听别人的谈话，时团短领地个人出人的生
She glanced, sidewavs, at the old couple. Perhaps they would go soonLast Sundav, too.hadn’t been as interesting as usual. An Englishman and his wife, he wearing a dreadful Panamahat and she button boots, And she’s gone on her whole time about how she ought to weaspectacles; She knew she needed them; but that it was no good getting any; they’d be sure tobreak and they’d never keep on. And he’d been so patient. He’d suggested anything—-gold rimsthe kind that curved round your ears, little pads inside the bridge. No, nothing would please her’Thev’ll alwavs be sliding dowrill had wanted to shake he0 00 00009 534 00450Never mind. there was alwavs the crowd towatch.To and froin front of the flower-beds and the band rotunda, the couples and groups paraded, stopped to talkto greet, to buy ahandful ogpar who had his tray fixed to the railings.华雨前和乐队 所在的圆’. little children ran among3RLthem swooping and laughing: little bovs with g white silk bones under the chains; little girls,little rench dolls, dresseimes a tiny staggerer came suddenlyrocking into the open from under the trees, stopped, stared, as suddenly sat down “flop “” until itssmall high-stepping mother, like a young hen, rushed scolding to its rescue.他1中电面着女孩广们打扮代他O市们市9的象法国玩且妹女步的小家伙突然从杯不据据是导电44 K直到他乐小的占hifht Other people sat on the benches andOL SETgreen chairs, but they were nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, and-..-Miss Brill hadoften noticed-.–there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were odd, silent, nearlall old. and from the way they stared they looked as though they’d iust come from dark littlerooms or even—-even cupboards! /此人队在收条上或是绿鱼的桥广上，组企昆期日支-个星期日。他们几乎总是同样的一些人，而且Bd小姐常常注意到他们几乎所有的人身上看他们睁大眼睛的样子，好像是刚从只他们工占年在。流国大，门平很名音的小子里叫求，其至是刚从小厨柜里出来。《这一段指写其实也是她自已在这些人眼中出3正个
批注[T3]: Become expert at 十分在行的，老练的批注IT4: Sitin 介入他人的生活
批注[T51: 暗示故事发生在英国意外的国家
Behind the rotunda the slender trees with yellow leaves down dropping, and though thenjust a line of sea, and beyond the blue sky with gold-veined clouds.Tum-tum-tum tiddle-um! Tiddle-um! Tum tiddley-um tumta! Below the band.ly的器 的跌，哒!的肤出肤肤点乐队 演袭

Iwo young girls in red came by and too young soldiers in blue met them, and they laughedand paired and went off arm in arm, Two peasant women with funny straw has passed, gravelyeading beautiful smoke colourecd donkey. A cold, pale nun hurried by. A beautiful woman camalong and dropped her bunch of violets, and a little boy ran after to hand them to her. and shetook them and threw them away as if they’d been poisoned, Dear me! Miss Brill didn’t knowwhether to admire that or not! And now an ermine toque and a gentleman in grey met iust infront of her, He was tall.stiff, dignified, and she was wearing the ermine toque she’d bought whenher hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the same color as theshabby ( aebij ermine, and her hand, in its clear gloves, lifted to dab her lips, was a tiny yellowishOh, she was so pleasedpaw.to see him.-.-delighted! she rather thoupine to meet that afternoon Shedescribed where she’d beealong bv the sea. The dav was socharming—didn’t he agree? And wouldn’t he perhaps?… But he shook his head, lighted acigarette slowly breathedgreat geeb but into berface and, even while she was still talking andaughing flicked the match aThe ermine toque was alone: she smiled morebrightly than ever But even the hand seemed to know what she was feeling and played moresoftly, plaved tenderly, and the drum beat “The Brute! The Brute!” over and over. What would shedo? What was going to happen now? But Miss Brill wandered, the ermine toque turned, raisedher hand as though she’d seen ! nicer iust over there, and pattered away. Ancthe band changed again and the plaved mortquicklv more gaily than ever, and the old couple onMiss Brill’s seat got up and marched away, and such a funny old man with a long whiskers hobbleclone in fime to the music and was hearly knocover by four girls walking abreast.ing it! How she loved sitting here, watching it all! ItOh , how fantastic it waswas like a plav. Who could bepainted? But it wasn’t till a littlebrown dog trotted on solemnly and then slowly trotted off, like a little “theatre” dog, a little dothat had been drugged, that Miss Brill discovered what iit was that made it so exciting. They会加次患上加是多2喜欢@在文电were all on the stagez1 b4o后的天客不弟围时来的? 但是直具“滑的小学小、E e1 m/@戏只的向切加止今人源动Thev weren’t only theaudience not only lookine on: thev weere acting. Even shhad a part and came every Sunday. Nothere she was part of the performance, after al文2Howstrange she’d never thought of it like that before! And yet it explained why she made such a pointof starting from home at just the same time each week–.-so as not to be late for the performanci…-and it also explained why she had quite a queer, shy feeling at telling her English pupils howshe spent her Sunday afternoon, No wonder! Miss Brill nearly laughed out loud, She was on thestage. She thought of the old invalid gentleman to whom she read the newspaper four afternoonsa week while he slept in the garden. She had got quite used to the frail head on the cotton pillow,
批注IT6|: 强调风景美如面
批注IT7:I wasnt…that 强调句句型
批注[T8: 虚拟语气，表示假设批注IT9:上述这一段描写强调人生如戏，为后文微铺售

the hollowed eyes, the open mouth and the high pinched nose. lf he’d been dead she mightn’thave noticed for weeks; she wouldn’t have mind. But suddenly he knew he was having the paperread to him by an actress.ifted; two points of light quivered in the olceves. “An actress—-are ve?” And Miss Brill smoothed the newspaper as though it were themanuscripts of her part and said gently:. “Yes, I have been an actress for a long time.” …he bang had been hawne a rest Now they started again. And what they played was warm.sunny, yet there was just a faint cha something, what was it? ..–not sadness-..-no, notsadness.-.-a something that made you want to sing. The tune lifted, lifted, the light shone, andit seems to Miss Brill that in another moment all of them, all the whole company, would begin他们蒲袭的乐电摄singing乐队刚才明快，蔡后E2天02225IR融是你星唱歌的气0你15E有的BEI2 2The wouhe ones. the auehine ones wncweremowinetosethethey would beginbrave would ioin them And then shahd themhens woice090too she too and the others on thewould come in with a kind ofaccompaniment -..-something lowthat scarcely rose or fell, something so beautiful----moving...o3EA5@R02D实信加的警委推00J2ZDnd Miss Brill’s eves filled with tears and shelooks smiled at all the other members of the company. Yes we understand, we understand, shethought-..-though what they understood she didn’t know. Brill/! !微笑着看彩副团的全体人员ES501112Just at that moment, a boy and a girl came and sat down where the old couple had been.Thev were beautifully dred; thev were in love. The hero and the heroine, of course, iustarrived from his father’s vacht, And still soundlessly singing, still with that trembling smile, MissBrill prepared to listen.对青年男女走过来坐在刚才那对老夫妻华的地方，他们衣人公刚刚从他父亲的游艇上下来。Bm小姐仍然在无声地唱着漂亮，正在恋爱缺里款证着歌。05子国5L2如建爱他价1的1资话No, not now” said the girl, “Not here, I can’t.””But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there? asked the boy. “Why does shecome here at all–.-who wants her? Why doesn’t she keep her silly old mug at home?”It’s her fu-fur for which is so funny, giggled the girl. “lt’s exactly like a fried whiting.”Ah, be off with you! said the boy in an angry whisper, Then: “Tell me, ma petite chere…..No, not here” said the girl. “Not yet.
oh har ww3w ho7Gually bought a slice of honey-cake at the baker’s. it was a Sundavtreat, Sometimes there was an almond in her slice, sometimes not, it made a great difference. ithere was an almond, it was like a caring home a tiny present-.-a surprise–something thatmight very well not have been there, She hurried on her almond Sundays and struck the match
Lesson 7Miss Brill
批注[T101: 社交季节的欢乐感染了 Bri 小姐的情绪，这是一个孤独而无足轻重的老人渴望自己的生命也有一份价值的心态。
批注 T11): Two is company, three is misery.
批注IT12]: ma petite chere 法文，同英文的my dear( darling )
批注IT131:买到的一块蛋糕里是否有一粒否仁就能有如此巨大的不同,可有可无的杏仁说明 Brill 小姐的生活实太平淡，太空虚。
批注 T14: 买到有杏仁的蛋糕的那些星期日

for her kettle in quite a dashing way.在回家的路上她总是要在面包店买上一块蜂蜜蛋糕。这有时候没有。由于没有大不一程是她在星期日的特殊享受，有时候买的蛋糕里有菏本仁，加果有杏仁，就像带回家中-件本来很可能没有的东西AC7A200在买到否仁蛋糕自别火些直水德元But today shethe baker’s bythe stairswent into the little dark room…heroom like a cupboard…-aand sat down on the red eiderdown, She sat there for a long time. Thebox that the fur came out of was on the bed. She unclasped the necklet quickly: quickly;without looking, laid it inside. But when she put the lid on she thought she heard somethingcrying.但是今天她径直从面包店门前走过，爬上楼梯走进那个昏暗的小房后她的像小屋柜一般的小层子坐在红鸭绒垫上。她了很久。装狐皮围巾的那只盒了放在床上。她进速解下围巾，看也不看，很快地把它放进了盒子。但当她盖上盒盖时感觉听见了哭泣声。
批注IT15: pass by 路过
批注IT161: 从出门前和在公园里对待这条狐狸皮做的围巾的态度，体现了 Bril 小姐非常伤心
批注1T17: 本文的作者以象征的手法，使表面看来微不道的小事具有强大的感染力。她的故事没有跌宕起伏引入胜的情节，也没有强烈的冲突与戏剧性的场面，只通貌似平凡的小事，用敏感的第触发掘人物内心深处细微变化，从而揭示出人生欢乐与痛苦的真情。
Please describe Miss Brill in briefl
Miss Brill taught some English pupils on Sunday afternoons in France. She also read thenewspaper for an old man for afternoons a week while he slept in the garden. She also had a habitof going to the park every Sunday afternoon. The band played all the year round on Sundays. She
liked sitting on the bench and watching the people around her.This Sundav only two people shared her “special seat, They did not speak. This wasdisappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversations. Fortunately there wasalways the crowd to watch. This Sunday, she had a special feeling. lt was like a play and they wereall on the stage. They were not only the audience, but they were acting. She was part of theperformance. That was why she started from home at ust the same time each week so as not tobe late for the performance.
Just at that moment, a boy and a girl came and sat down where the old couple had been.They regarded Miss Brill as the stupid old things, They said no one wanted her silly old mug and afur was like a fry whiting, although it was carefully chosen for this Sunday.Miss Brill was very unhappy and angry. lt was a blow to her. So she returned home at once.She went into the little dark room and sat down on the red eiderdown for a long time, with tearscoming down her face.

  1. 1.French,= public gardon. ↩