English Original
Mildred Orme, seated in the snuggest corner of the big front porch of the Kraummer farmhouse, was as content as a girl need hope to be.
This was no such farm as one reads about in humorous fiction. Here were swelling acres where the undulating wheat gleamed in the sun like a golden sea. For silver there was the Meramec—or, better, it was pure crystal, for here and there one might look clean through it down to where the pebbles lay like green and yellow gems. Along the river’s edge trees were growing to the very water, and in it, sweeping it when they were willows.
The house itself was big and broad, as country houses should be. The master was big and broad, too. The mistress was small and thin, and it was always she who went out at noon to pull the great clanging bell that called the farmhands in to dinner.
From her agreeable corner where she lounged with her Browning or her Ibsen, Mildred watched the woman do this every day. Yet when the clumsy farmhands all came tramping up the steps and crossed the porch in going to their meal, she never looked at them. Why should she? Farmhands are not so very nice to look at, and she was nothing of an anthropologist.
But once when the half dozen men came along, a paper which she had laid carelessly upon the railing was blown across their path. One of them picked it up, and when he had mounted the steps restored it to her. He was young, and brown, of course, as the sun had made him. He had nice blue eyes. His fair hair was dishevelled. His shoulders were broad and square and his limbs strong and clean. A not unpicturesque figure in the rough attire that bared his throat to view and gave perfect freedom to his every motion.
Mildred did not make these several observations in the half second that she looked at him in courteous acknowledgment. It took her as many days to note them all. For she singled him out each time that he passed her, meaning to give him a condescending little smile, as she knew how. But he never looked at her. To be sure, clever young women of twenty, who are handsome, besides, who have refused their half dozen offers and are settling down to the conviction that life is a tedious affair, are not going to care a straw whether farmhands look at them or not. And Mildred did not care, and the thing would not have occupied her a moment if Satan had not intervened, in offering the employment which natural conditions had failed to supply. It was summer time; she was idle; she was piqued, and that was the beginning of the shameful affair.
“Who are these men, Mrs. Kraummer, that work for you? Where do you pick them up?”
“Oh, we picks ’em up everyvere. Some is neighbors, some is tramps, and so.”
“And that broad-shouldered young fellow—is he a neighbor? The one who handed me my paper the other day—you remember?”
“Gott, no! You might yust as well say he vas a tramp. Aber he vorks like a steam ingine.”
“Well, he’s an extremely disagreeable-looking man. I should think you’d be afraid to have him about, not knowing him.”
“Vat you vant to be ’fraid for?” laughed the little woman. “He don’t talk no more un ven he vas deef und dumb. I didn’t t’ought you vas sooch a baby.”
“But, Mrs. Kraummer, I don’t want you to think I’m a baby, as you say —a coward, as you mean. Ask the man if he will drive me to church tomorrow. You see, I’m not so very much afraid of him,” she added with a smile.
The answer which this unmannerly farmhand returned to Mildred’s request was simply a refusal. He could not drive her to church because he was going fishing.
中文翻译
米尔德里德·奥姆坐在克劳默农舍大前廊最舒适的角落里，心满意足，一个女孩所能期望的也不过如此了。
这可不是幽默小说里读到的那种农场。这里有广袤的土地，起伏的麦浪在阳光下闪耀，宛如金色的海洋。银色的梅拉梅克河——或者说，它更像是纯净的水晶，因为人们随处可以一眼望穿河底，看到那些如绿宝石和黄宝石般铺陈的鹅卵石。河岸边，树木一直长到水边，柳树的枝条更是垂入水中，轻拂着水面。
房子本身又大又宽，正像乡间住宅应有的样子。男主人也是高大魁梧。女主人则瘦小纤细，每天中午总是她出去拉响那口叮当作响的大钟，招呼雇工们回来吃饭。
米尔德里德每天从她那个惬意的角落——她常在那里慵懒地读着勃朗宁或易卜生的作品——看着女主人做这件事。然而，当那些笨拙的雇工们踏着沉重的脚步走上台阶，穿过门廊去里面吃饭时，她却从不看他们一眼。她为什么要看呢？雇工们没什么好看的，她也绝非人类学家。
但有一次，当那六七个男人走过来时，她漫不经心放在栏杆上的一张纸被风吹到了他们脚下。其中一人捡了起来，走上台阶后还给了她。他很年轻，皮肤自然是太阳晒成的棕色。他有一双好看的蓝眼睛。他的金发凌乱。他的肩膀宽阔方正，四肢强壮而匀称。他穿着粗糙的衣衫，露出脖颈，让每一个动作都舒展自如，倒也算得上是一幅不赖的画面。
米尔德里德并非在那礼貌致谢的半秒钟内就完成了所有这些观察。她花了好几天才注意到全部细节。因为她每次在他经过时都会特意留意他，打算像她惯常那样，给他一个屈尊俯就的、小小的微笑。但他从未看过她。诚然，一个二十岁的聪慧女子，而且容貌姣好，已经拒绝了半打追求者，正逐渐认定生活是件沉闷乏味的事，她是不会在乎雇工是否看她的。米尔德里德也确实不在乎，若不是撒旦插手，提供了自然条件未能提供的消遣，这件事本不会占据她片刻心思。时值夏日；她无所事事；她感到气恼，而这便是那桩可耻之事的开端。
“克劳默太太，给你干活的这些男人都是什么人？你从哪儿找来的？”
“哦，我们到处找。有些是邻居，有些是流浪汉，诸如此类。”
“那个宽肩膀的年轻人——他是邻居吗？就是前几天递还我报纸的那个——你记得吗？”
“天哪，不是！你大可以说他是个流浪汉。不过他干起活来像台蒸汽机。”
“嗯，他看起来极其令人不快。我觉得你该害怕让一个你不了解的人待在身边。”
“你怕啥呀？”小个子女人笑道。“他话不多，跟聋哑人似的。我没想到你这么胆小。”
“但是，克劳默太太，我不想让你觉得我是个胆小鬼，像你说的那样——懦弱，像你意指的那样。去问问那个人，明天能不能驾车送我去教堂。你看，我并不是很怕他，”她微笑着补充道。
这个粗鲁的雇工给米尔德里德请求的答复，仅仅是一句拒绝。他不能驾车送她去教堂，因为他要去钓鱼。