The Blanket 一床雙人毛毯
Floyd Dell，born June 28，1887，Barry，Ill.，U.S. died July 23，1969，Bethesda，Md. novelist and radical journalist whose fiction examined the changing mores in sex and politics among American bohemians before and after World War I. A precocious poet，Dell grew up in an impoverished family and left high school at age 16 to work in a factory. Moving to Chicago in 1908，he worked as a newspaperman and soon was a leader of the city's advanced literary movement. He became assistant editor of the Friday Literary Review of the Evening Post in 1909 and editor in 1911，making it one of the most noted American literary supplements. As a critic，he furthered the careers of Sherwood Anderson and Theodore Dreiser. A socialist since his youth，he moved to New York in 1914 and was associate editor of the left-wing The Masses until 1917. Dell was on the staff of The Liberator，which succeeded The Masses，from 1918 to 1924. His first and best novel，the largely autobiographical Moon-Calf，appeared in 1920，and its sequel，The Briary-Bush，in 1921. Homecoming，an autobiography taking him to his 35th year，was published in 1933. His other novels on life among the unconventional include Janet March（1923），Runaway（1925），and Love in Greenwich Village（1926）。His nonfiction includes Were You Ever a Child？（1919），on child-rearing；the biography Upton Sinclair：A Study in Social Protest（1927）；and Love in the Machine Age（1930），which presented his views on sex. Little Accident，a play written with Thomas Mitchell and based on Dell's novel An Unmarried Father（1927），was successfully produced in 1928. Dell joined the Federal Writers Project and moved to Washington，D.C.，in the late 1930s as an official for the project. He continued in government work after the project ended，until his retirement in 1947.
Petey hadn't really believed that Dad would be doing It―sending Granddad away.“Away”was what they were calling it.Not until now could he believe it of his father.
But here was the blanket that Dad had bought for Granddad，and in the morning he'd be going away. This was the last evening they'd be having together. Dad was off seeing that girl he was to marry. He would not be back till late，so Petey and Granddad could sit up and talk.
It was a fine September night，with a silver moon riding high. They washed up the supper dishes and then took their chairs out onto the porch.“I'll get my fiddle，”said the old man，“and play you some of the old tunes.”
But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a big double blanket，red with black stripes.
“Now，isn't that a fine blanket！”said the old man，smoothing it over his knees.“And isn't your father a kind man to be giving the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with？It cost something，it did―look at the wool of it！There'll be few blankets there the equal of this one！”
It was like Granddad to be saying that. He was trying to make it easier. He had pretended all along that he wanted to go away to the great brick building―the government place. There he'd be with so many other old fellows，having the best of everything. . . . But Petey hadn't believed Dad would really do it，not until this night when he brought home the blanket.
“Oh，yes，it's a fine blanket，”said Petey. He got up and went into the house. He wasn't the kind to cry and，besides，he was too old for that. He'd just gone in to fetch Granddad's fiddle.
The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood up. He tuned up for a minute，and then said，“This is one you'll like to remember.”
Petey sat and looked out over the gully. Dad would marry that girl. Yes，that girl who had kissed Petey and fussed over him，saying she'd try to be a good mother to him，and all. . . .
The tune stopped suddenly. Granddad said，“It's a fine girl your father's going to marry. He'll be feeling young again with a pretty wife like that. And what would an old fellow like me be doing around their house，getting in the way？An old nuisance，what with my talks of aches and pains. It's best that I go away，like I'm doing. One more tune or two，and then we'll be going to sleep. I'll pack up my blanket in the morning.”
They didn't hear the two people coming down the path. Dad had one arm around the girl，whose bright face was like a doll's. But they heard her when she laughed，right close by the porch. Dad didn't say anything，but the girl came forward and spoke to Granddad prettily：“I won't be here when you leave in the morning，so I came over to say good-bye.”
“It's kind of you，”said Granddad，with his eyes cast down. Then，seeing the blanket at his feet，he stooped to pick it up.“And will you look at this，”he said.“The fine blanket my son has given me to go away with.”
“Yes，”she said.“It's a fine blanket.”She felt the wool and repeated in surprise，“A fine blanket―I'll say it is！”She turned to Dad and said to him coldly，“That blanket really cost something.”
Dad cleared his throat and said，“I wanted him to have the best. . . .”
“It's double，too，”she said，as if accusing Dad.
“Yes，”said Granddad，“it's double―a fine blanket for an old fellow to be going away with.”
17 The boy went suddenly into the house. He was looking for something. He could hear that girl scolding Dad. She realized how much of Dad's money―her money，really―had gone for the blanket. Dad became angry in his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away in a huff. . . .
As Petey came out，she turned and called back，“All the same，he doesn't need a double blanket！”And she ran off up the path.
Dad was looking after her as if he wasn't sure what he ought to do.
“Oh，she's right，”Petey said.“Here，Dad”―and he held out a pair of scissors.“Cut the blanket in two.”
Both of them stared at the boy，startled.“Cut it in two，I tell you，Dad！”he cried out.“And keep the other half.”
“That's not a bad idea，”said Granddad gently.“I don't need so much of a blanket.”
“Yes，”the boy said harshly，“a single blanket's enough for an old man when he's sent away. We'll save the other half，Dad. It'll come in handy later.”
“Now what do you mean by that？”asked Dad.
“I mean，”said the boy slowly，“that I'll give it to you，Dad―when you're old and I'm sending you―away.”
There was a silence. Then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before him，not speaking. But Granddad understood. He put out a hand and laid it on Dad's shoulder. And he heard Granddad whisper，“It's all right，son. I knew you didn't mean it. . . .”And then Petey cried.
But it didn't matter―because they were all crying together.
一床雙人毛毯
（美）弗羅伊德
晴朗的九月的夜晚，銀色的月光灑落在溪谷上。此時，十一歲的彼得沒有觀賞月亮，也沒感覺到微微的涼風(fēng)吹進(jìn)廚房。他的思緒全在廚房桌上那條紅黑相間的毛毯上。那是爸爸送給爺爺?shù)碾x別禮物。他們說爺爺要走。他們是這么說的。
彼得不相信爸爸真會把爺爺送走。可是現(xiàn)在離別禮物都買好了。爸爸今天晚上買的。今晚是他和爺爺在一起的最后一個晚上了。
吃完晚飯，爺孫倆一塊洗碗碟，爸爸走了，和那個就要與他成親的女人一起走的，不會馬上回來。洗完碗碟，爺孫走出屋子，坐在月光下。
“我去拿口琴來給你吹幾支老曲子。”爺爺說。一會兒，爺爺從屋里出來了，拿來的不是口琴，而是那床毛毯。
那是條大大的雙人毛毯。“這毛毯多好！”老人輕撫著膝頭的毛毯說，“你爸真孝，給我這老家伙帶這么床高級毛毯走。你看這毛，一定很貴的。以后冬天晚上不會冷了。那里不會有這么好的毛毯的。”
爺爺總這么說，為了避免難堪，他一直裝著很想去政府辦的養(yǎng)老院的樣子，想象著，離開溫暖的家和朋友，去哪個地方與許多其他老人一起共度晚年。可彼得從沒想到爸爸真會把爺爺送走，直到今晚看到爸爸帶回這床毛毯。
“是床好毛毯，”彼得搭訕著走進(jìn)小屋。他不是個好哭的孩子，況且，他已早過了好哭鼻子的年齡了。他是進(jìn)屋給爺爺拿口琴的。
爺爺接琴時毛毯滑落到地上。最后一個晚上了，爺孫倆誰也沒說話。爺爺吹了一會兒，然后說，“你會記住這支曲子。”
月兒高高掛在天邊，微風(fēng)輕輕地吹過溪谷。最后一次了，彼得想，以后再也聽不到爺爺吹口琴了，爸爸也要從這搬走，住進(jìn)新居了。若把爺爺一個人撇下，美好的夜晚自己獨(dú)坐廊下，還有什么意思！
音樂停了，有那么一會兒工夫，爺孫倆誰也沒說話。過了一會兒，爺爺說，“這只曲子歡快點(diǎn)。彼得坐在那怔怔地望著遠(yuǎn)方。爸爸要娶那個姑娘了。是的，那個姑娘親過他了，還發(fā)誓要對他好，做個好媽媽。
爺爺突然停下來，“這曲子不好，跳舞還湊合。”怔了一會兒，又說，“你爸要娶的姑娘不錯。有個這么漂亮的妻子他會變年輕的。我又何必在這礙事，我一會兒這病一會兒那疼，招人嫌呢。況且他們還會有孩子。我可不想整夜聽孩子哭鬧。不，不！還是走為上策呀！好，再吹兩支曲子我們就上床睡覺，睡到明天早晨，帶上毛毯走人。你看這支怎么樣？調(diào)子有些悲，倒很合適這樣的夜晚呢。”
他們沒有聽到爸爸和那個瓷美人正沿溪谷的小道走來，直到走近門廊，爺孫倆才聽到她的笑聲，琴聲嘎然而止。爸爸一聲沒吭，姑娘走到爺爺跟前恭敬地說：“明天早晨不能來送您，我現(xiàn)在來跟您告別的。”
“謝謝了，”爺爺說。低頭看著腳邊的毛毯，爺爺彎腰拾起來，“你看，”爺爺局促地說，“這是兒子送我的離別禮物。多好的毛毯！”
“是不錯。”她摸了一下毛毯，“好高級呀！”她轉(zhuǎn)向爸爸，冷冷地說，“一定花了不少錢吧。”
爸爸支吾著說，“我想給他一床最好的毛毯。”“哼，還是雙人的呢。”姑娘沒完地糾纏毛毯的事。
“是的，”老人說，“是床雙人毛毯。一床一個老家伙即將帶走的毛毯。”彼得轉(zhuǎn)身跑進(jìn)屋。他聽到那姑娘還在嘮叨毛毯的昂貴，爸爸開始慢慢動怒。姑娘走了，彼得出屋時她正回頭沖爸爸喊“甭解釋，他根本用不著雙人毛毯。”爸爸看著她，臉上有種奇怪的表情。
“她說得對，爸爸，”彼得說，“爺爺用不著雙人毛毯。爸爸，給！”彼得遞給爸爸一把剪刀，“把毛毯剪成兩塊。”
“好主意，”爺爺溫和地說，“我用不著這么大的毛毯。”
“是的，”彼得說，“老人家送走時給床單人毛毯就不錯了。我們還能留下一半，以后遲早總有用處。”
“你這是什么意思？”爸爸問。
“我是說，”彼得慢騰騰地說，“等你老了，我送你走時給你這一半。”
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