
短篇小说 | The Five Boons of Life
In the morning of life came a good fairy with her basket, and said:
In the morning of life came a good fairy with her basket, and said:
What runs, but never walks. Murmurs, but never talks. Has a bed, but never sleeps. And has a mouth, but never eats?
什么东西会跑却从不走路,总是咕哝却从不说话, 有床却从不睡觉,有嘴却从不吃东西?
Some days ago a correspondent sent in an old typewritten sheet, faded by age, containing the following letter over the signature of Mark Twain:
Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?
穷人有它。 富人需要它。 如果你吃了它你就会死。 它是什么?
The origin of this distressful thing was this--and I assert here that every fact in the following resume can be amply proved by the official records of the General Government.
A plane crashed between the border of France and Belgium. Where were the survivors buried?
一架飞机在法国和比利时边境之间坠毁。幸存者被埋在哪里?
I have resigned. The government appears to go on much the same, but there is a spoke out of its wheel, nevertheless.
Two in a corner, one in a room, zero in a house, but one in a shelter. What am I?
我有两个在角落里,一个在房间里,零个在房子里,但有一个在居所里。我是什么?
I was feeling blithe, almost jocund. I put a match to my cigar, and just then the morning's mail was handed in. The first superscription I glanced at was in a handwriting that sent a thrill of pleasure through and through me.
When is a door no longer a door?
什么时候门不再是门?
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