夜莺与玫瑰-第19部分

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　gunpowder，　and　that　was　so　wet　with　tears　that　it　was　of　no　use。　All　his　poor　relations，　to　whom　he　would　never　speak，　except　with　a　sneer，　shot　up　into　the　sky　like　wonderful　golden　flowers　with　blossoms　of　fire。　Huzza！　Huzza！　cried　the　Court；　and　the　little　Princess　laughed　with　pleasure。
“I　suppose　they　are　reserving　me　for　some　grand　occasion，”　said　the　Rocket；　“no　doubt　that　is　what　it　means，”　and　he　looked　more　supercilious　than　ever。
The　next　day　the　workmen　came　to　put　everything　tidy。　“This　is　evidently　a　deputation，”　said　the　Rocket；　“I　will　receive　them　with　being　dignity”　so　he　put　his　nose　in　the　air，　and　began　to　frown　severely　as　if　he　were　thinking　about　some　very　important　subject。　But　they　took　no　notice　of　him　at　all　till　they　were　just　going　away。　Then　one　of　them　caught　sight　of　him。　“Hallo！”　he　cried，　“what　a　bad　rocket！”　and　he　threw　him　over　the　wall　into　the　ditch。
“Bad　Rocket？　Bad　Rocket？”　he　said，　as　he　whirled　through　the　air；　“impossible！　Grand　Rocket，　that　is　what　the　man　said。　Bad　and　grand　sound　very　much　the　same，　indeed　they　often　are　the　same”；　and　he　fell　into　the　mud。
“It　is　not　fortable　here，”　he　remarked，　“but　no　doubt　it　is　some　fashionable　watering…place，　and　they　have　sent　me　away　to　recruit　my　health。　My　nerves　are　certainly　very　much　shattered，　and　I　require　rest。”
Then　a　little　Frog，　with　bright　jewelled　eyes，　and　a　green　mottled　coat，　swam　up　to　him。
“A　new　arrival，　I　see！”　said　the　Frog。　“Well，　after　all　there　is　nothing　like　mud。　Give　me　rainy　weather　and　a　ditch，　and　I　am　quite　happy。　Do　you　think　it　will　be　a　wet　afternoon？　I　am　sure　I　hope　so，　but　the　sky　is　quite　blue　and　cloudless。　What　a　pity！”
“Ahem！　ahem！”　said　the　Rocket，　and　he　began　to　cough。
“What　a　delightful　voice　you　have！”　cried　the　Frog。　“Really　it　is　quite　like　a　croak，　and　croaking　is　of　course　the　most　musical　sound　in　the　world。　You　will　hear　our　glee…club　this　evening。　We　sit　in　the　old　duck　pond　close　by　the　farmer’s　house，　and　as　soon　as　the　moon　rises　we　begin。　It　is　so　entrancing　that　everybody　lies　awake　to　listen　to　us。　In　fact，　it　was　only　yesterday　that　I　heard　the　farmer’s　wife　say　to　her　mother　that　she　could　not　get　a　wink　of　sleep　at　night　on　account　of　us。　It　is　most　gratifying　to　find　oneself　so　popular。”
“Ahem！　ahem！”　said　the　Rocket　angrily。　He　was　very　much　annoyed　that　he　could　not　get　a　word　in。
“A　delightful　voice，　certainly，”　continued　the　Frog；　“I　hope　you　will　e　over　to　the　duck…pond。　I　am　off　to　look　for　my　daughters。　I　have　six　beautiful　daughters，　and　I　am　so　afraid　the　Pike　may　meet　them。　He　is　a　perfect　monster，　and　would　have　no　hesitation　in　breakfasting　off　them。　Well，　good…bye：　I　have　enjoyed　our　conversation　very　much，　I　assure　you。”
“Conversation，　indeed！”　said　the　Rocket。　“You　have　talked　the　whole　time　yourself。　That　is　not　conversation。”
“Somebody　must　listen，”　answered　the　Frog，　“and　I　like　to　do　all　the　talking　myself。　It　saves　time，　and　prevents　arguments。”
“But　I　like　arguments，”　said　the　Rocket。
“I　hope　not，”　said　the　Frog　placently。　“Arguments　are　extremely　vulgar，　for　everybody　in　good　society　holds　exactly　the　same　opinions。　Good…bye　a　second　time；　I　see　my　daughters　in　the　distance；”　and　the　little　Frog　swam　away。
“You　are　a　very　irritating　person，”　said　the　Rocket，　“and　very　ill…bred。　I　hate　people　who　talk　about　themselves，　as　you　do，　when　one　wants　to　talk　about　oneself，　as　I　do。　It　is　what　I　call　selfishness，　and　selfishness　is　a　most　detestable　thing，　especially　to　any　one　of　my　temperament，　for　I　am　well　known　for　my　sympathetic　nature。　In　fact，　you　should　take　example　by　me；　you　could　not　possibly　have　a　better　model。　Now　that　you　have　the　chance　you　had　better　avail　yourself　of　it，　for　I　am　going　back　to　Court　almost　immediately。　I　am　a　great　favourite　at　Court；　in　fact，　the　Prince　and　Princess　were　married　yesterday　in　my　honour。　Of　course　you　know　nothing　of　these　matters，　for　you　are　a　provincial。”
“There　is　no　good　talking　to　him，”　said　a　Dragon…fly，　who　was　sitting　on　the　top　of　a　large　brown　bulrush；　“no　good　at　all，　for　he　has　gone　away。”
“Well，　that　is　his　loss，　not　mine，”　answered　the　Rocket。　“I　am　not　going　to　stop　talking　to　him　merely　because　he　pays　no　attention。　I　like　hearing　myself　talk。　It　is　one　of　my　greatest　pleasures。　I　often　have　long　conversations　all　by　myself，　and　I　am　so　clever　that　sometimes　I　don’t　understand　a　single　word　of　what　I　am　saying。”
“Then　you　should　certainly　lecture　on　Philosophy，”　said　the　Dragon…fly；　and　he　spread　a　pair　of　lovely　gauze　wings　and　soared　away　into　the　sky。
“How　very　silly　of　him　not　to　stay　here！”　said　the　Rocket。　“I　am　sure　that　he　has　not　often　got　such　a　chance　of　improving　his　mind。　However，　I　don’t　care　a　bit。　Genius　like　mine　is　sure　to　be　appreciated　some　day；”　and　he　sank　down　a　little　deeper　into　the　mud。
After　some　time　a　large　White　Duck　swam　up　to　him。　She　had　yellow　legs，　and　webbed　feet，　and　was　considered　a　great　beauty　on　account　of　her　waddle。
“Quack，　quack，　quack，”　she　said。　“What　a　curious　shape　you　are！　May　I　ask　were　you　born　like　that，　or　is　it　the　result　of　an　accident？”
“It　is　quite　evident　that　you　have　always　lived　in　the　country，”　answered　the　Rocket，　“otherwise　you　would　know　who　I　am。　However，　I　excuse　your　ignorance。　It　would　be　unfair　to　expect　other　people　to　be　as　remarkable　as　oneself。　You　will　no　doubt　be　surprised　to　hear　that　I　can　fly　up　into　the　sky，　and　e　down　in　a　shower　of　golden　rain。”
“I　don’t　think　much　of　that，”　said　the　Duck，　“as　I　cannot　see　what　use　it　is　to　any　one。　Now，　if　you　could　plough　the　fields　like　the　ox，　or　draw　a　cart　like　the　horse，　or　look　after　the　sheep　like　the　collie…dog，　that　would　be　something。”
“My　good　creature，”　cried　the　Rocket　in　a　very　haughty　tone　of　voice，　“I　see　that　you　belong　to　the　lower　orders。　A　person　of　my　position　is　never　useful。　We　have　certain　acplishments，　and　that　is　more　than　sufficient。　I　have　no　sympathy　myself　with　industry　of　any　kind，　least　of　all　with　such　industries　as　you　seem　to　remend。　Indeed，　I　have　always　been　of　opinion　that　hard　work　is　simply　the　refuge　of　people　who　have　nothing　whatever　to　do。”
“Well，　well，”　said　the　Duck，　who　was　of　a　very　peaceable　disposition，　and　never　quarrelled　with　any　one，　“everybody　has　different　tastes。　I　hope，　at　any　rate，　that　you　are　going　to　take　up　your　residence　here。”
“Oh！dear　no，”　cried　the　Rocket。　“I　am　merely　a　visitor，　a　distinguished　visitor。　The　fact　is　that　I　find　this　place　rather　tedious。　There　is　neither　society　here，　nor　solitude。　In　fact，　it　is　essentially　suburban。　I　shall　probably　go　back　to　Court，　for　I　know　that　I　am　destined　to　make　a　sensation　in　the　world。”
“I　had　thoughts　of　entering　public　life　once　myself，”　remarked　the　Duck；　“there　are　so　many　things　that　need　reforming。　Indeed，　I　took　the　chair　at　a　meeting　some　time　ago，　and　we　passed　resolutions　condemning　everything　that　we　did　not　like。　However，　they　did　not　seem　to　have　much　effect。　Now　I　go　in　for　domesticity，　and　look　after　my　family。”
“I　am　made　for　public　life，”　said　the　Rocket，　“and　so　are　all　my　relations，　even　the　humblest　of　them。　Whenever　we　appear　we　excite　great　attention。　I　have　not　actually　appeared　myself，　but　when　I　do　so　it　will　be　a　magnificent　sight。　As　for　domesticity，　it　ages　one　rapidly，　and　distracts　one’s　mind　from　higher　things。”
“Ah！　the　higher　things　of　life，　how　fine　they　are！”　said　the　Duck；　“and　that　reminds　me　how　hungry　I　feel；”　and　she　swam　away　down　the　stream，　saying，　“Quack，　quack，　quack。”
“e　back！　e　back！”　screamed　the　Rocket，　“I　have　a　great　deal　to　say　to　you；”　but　the　Duck　paid　no　attention　to　him。　“I　am　glad　that　she　has　gone，”　he　said　to　himself，　“she　has　a　decidedly　middle…class　mind；”　and　he　sank　a　little　deeper　still　into　the　mud，　and　began　to　think　about　the　loneliness　of　genius，　when　suddenly　two　little　boys　in　white　smocks　came　running　down　the　bank，　with　a　kettle　and　some　faggots。
“This　must　be　the　deputation，”　said　the　Rocket，　and　he　tried　to　look　very　dignified。
“Hallo！”　cried　one　of　the　boys，　“look　at　this　old　stick！　I　wonder　how　it　came　here；”　and　he　picked　the　rocket　out　of　the　ditch。
“Old　Stick！”　said　the　Rocket，　“impossible！　Gold　Stick，　that　is　what　he　said。　Gold　Stick　is　very　plimentary。　In　fact，　he　mistakes　me　for　one　of　the　Court　dignitaries！”
“Let　us　put　it　into　the　fire！”　said　the　other　boy，　“it　will　help　to　boil　the　kettle。”
So　they　piled　the　faggots　together，　and　put　the　Rocket　on　top，　and　lit　the　fire。
“This　is　magnificent，”　cried　the　Rocket，　“they　are　going　to　let　me　off　in　broad　day…light，　so　that　every　one　can　see　me。”
“We　will　go　to　sleep　now，”　they　said，　“and　when　we　wake　up　the　kettle　will　be　boiled；”　and　they　lay　down　on　the　grass，　and　shut　their　eyes。
The　Rocket　was　very　damp，　so　he　took　a　long　time　to　burn。　At　last，　however，　the　fire　caught　him。
“Now　I　am　going　off！”　he　cried，　and　he　made　himself　very　stiff　and　straight。　“I　know　I　shall　go　much　higher　than　the　stars，　much　high