Miss Martha Meacham kept the little bakery on the corner (the one where you go up three steps, and the bell tinkles when you open the door). Miss Martha was forty, her bankbook showed a credit of two thousand dollars, and she possessed two false teeth and a sympathetic heart. Many people have married whose chances to do so were much inferior to Miss Martha's. Two or three times a week she received a customer in whom she began to take an interest. He was a middle-aged man wearing spectacles and a brown beard trimmed to a careful point. He spoke English with a strong German accent. His clothes were worn and darned in places, and wrinkled and baggy in others, but he looked neat and had very good manners. He always bought two loaves of stale bread--fresh bread was five cents a loaf and stale ones were two for five. Never did he call for anything but stale bread. On one occasion, Miss Martha noticed a red and brown stain on his fingers and decided that he was a struggling artist. No doubt he lived in a garret, where he painted pictures and ate stale bread and thought of the good things to eat in Miss Martha's bakery. Her sympathetic heart beat faster at the picture. In order to test her theory as to his occupation, Miss Martha brought from her room one day a painting that she had purchased at a sale and set it conspicuously against the shelves behind the bread counter. It was a Venetian scene, with a perfectly splendid marble palazzo and a lady in a gondola trailing her hand in the water. No artist could fail to notice it. Two days afterward the customer came in again, and he did notice the picture. "You haf here a fine bicture, madame.""Yes?" said Miss Martha, reveling in her own cunning white wrapping the stale loaves. "I do so admire art and paintings.., you think it is a good picture?" "Der balance," said the customer, "is not in good drawing. Der bairspective of it is not true. Goot morning, madame." He took the stale bread, bowed politely, and hurried out; Miss Martha carried the picture back to her room. How gentle and kindly his eyes shone behind his spectacles! To be able to judge perspective at a glance-- and to live on stale bread! But Miss Martha realized that, unfortunate though it is, genius often has to struggle before it is recognized. Following that incident, the gentle-mannered artist (for so she thought of him now) would chat for a while. He continued to order the stale bread never a cake, never a pie, never one of the other delicious pastries in the showcase. He was beginning to look thinner and very discouraged. Miss Martha became concerned; her sympathetic heart ached to add some delicacy to his meager purchase, but her courage failed. She did not dare affront him, for she understood the pride of artists. Miss Martha * took to wearing her blue-dotted silk waist behind the counter. One day the customer came in as usual, laid his nickel on the showcase, and called for his stale loaves. While Miss Martha was reaching for them there was a great tooting and clanging, and a fire engine came lumbering past.(1)瑪莎·米查姆小姐的小餅屋就坐落在街角（就是那間你登上三級臺階，開門時聽到一陣悅耳清脆的鈴聲的小店）。(2)瑪莎小姐40歲了，她的銀行存款已有2000美元。她有兩顆假牙，爲人心地善良。很多結婚機遇遠不如瑪莎小姐的人都已經結了婚。(3)有一位顧客每週總來瑪莎小姐的小店二、三次，瑪莎小姐對此人逐漸產生了好感。他是個中年人，戴副眼鏡，下巴上的棕色鬍子被仔細地修得尖尖的。這個人的英語夾雜着濃重的德國口音。他的衣服已經很舊，有些地方都打了補丁，還有些地方滿是褶子，鬆鬆垮垮。但從整體來看，他還算整潔，而且蠻有修養。他總是買兩條幹麪包----新鮮麪包是五美分一條，乾麪包五美分可買兩條。這個人除乾麪包以外從不買任何別的東西。(4)有一次，瑪莎小姐注意到這人的手指上有紅棕色的彩漬，由此她斷定這人是位尚不出名的藝術家。他肯定住在一間小閣樓裏，邊畫畫邊啃乾麪包，同時還想着瑪莎小姐餅屋裏的種種美味。一想到這番情景，瑪莎小姐那顆富於憐憫的心不禁加快了跳動。爲了證實她對這人職業的猜測，一天瑪莎小姐從自己屋裏把她在大減價時買的一幅畫拿了出來，掛在麪包櫃檯後面架子上最顯眼的地方。那是一幅威尼斯風景畫，畫面上是金碧輝煌的大理石宮殿，還有一位從平底狹長小船上伸手戲水的貴婦人。哪位藝術家都會注意到它的。 (5)兩天後，那位顧客又來了，他確實注意到了那幅畫。“小姐，你這幅畫很漂亮。”(6）“是嗎？”瑪莎小姐答道，手裏邊包着乾麪包，心裏邊因自己的小聰明而感到得意，“我對藝術和繪畫太喜歡了……您認爲這是幅好畫？”(7)“佈局和比例，”那位顧客說，“不很協調。透視效果也不很逼真。再見，小姐。”(8)他拿了乾麪包，朝瑪莎小姐很禮貌地一鞠躬，便匆匆離開了；瑪莎小姐把那幅畫又拿回自己的房間。呵，那副眼鏡後面的那雙眼睛顯得多麼溫柔而和善啊！只隨意一瞥就能判斷透視效果——而就是這樣一個人居然以乾麪包充飢！但瑪莎小姐又想到，儘管這是不幸的，但天才在被承認之前往往都要經過一番艱苦奮鬥的。(9)此後，這位舉止高雅的藝術家（她現在就是這樣認爲了）在每次買麪包時都會和瑪莎小姐聊聊天。他依然要他的乾麪包----從不要蛋糕，不要餡餅，更不要櫥窗裏其它可口的糕點。他漸漸地看上去越來越瘦，而且神情沮喪。這不由得令瑪莎小姐擔心起來；她那顆善良的心真想給那可憐的人加些美味食品，但她還是沒有勇氣。她不敢冒犯他，因爲她明白藝術家最珍視尊嚴。 (10)瑪莎小姐現在開始穿着那件藍點的真絲背心站櫃檯了。一天，那位顧客一如往常地來了，把五美分硬幣往櫃檯上一放要了兩條幹麪包。正當瑪莎小姐拿麪包時，門外突然響起警笛，一陣鏗鏗作響，隨後一輛消防車轟隆轟隆地開過。 [11] The kindly customer hurried to the door to look, as anyone will. Struck with sudden inspiration, Miss Martha seized the occasion so opportunely offered. On the bottom shelf behind the counter was a pound of fresh butter left by the dairyman minutes before. With a bread knife Miss Martha quickly made a deep slash in each of the stale loaves, inserted a generous quantity of butter, and pressed the loaves tight again. When the gentleman turned back to the counter, she was tying the paper around them as usual.[12] When he had gone, after an unusually pleasant little chat, Miss Martha smiled to herself. She was pleased with her daring and generous impulse, but her heart was fluttering in anxiety. Had she been to bold? Would he take offense? Surely he would not; there was no language of edibles, and butter was no emblem of unmaidenly forwardness.[13] For a long time that day her mind dwelt on the imagined scene when he should discover her little deception. Probably he would lay down his brushes and palette and stand by his easel with the picture he was painting--the perspective, of course, would be beyond criticism. Then he would prepare for his luncheon of dry bread and water; he would slice into the loaf--ah! Miss Martha blushed at the thought. Would he think of the hand that placed it there as he ate? Would he[14] The front door bell jangled viciously, interrupting the delightful speculations. Miss Martha sighed and hurried to the front, because somebody was making a great deal of noise. Two men were standing before the showcase. One was a young man smoking a pipe (she had never seen him before), and the other was the kindly, poverty-stricken artist for whom her sympathetic heart had interceded only this morning.[15] He did not look or act like his usual self--his face was very red, his hat was on the back of his head, his hair was wildly rumpled. He clenched his fists tightly and shook them ferociously at Miss Martha. At Miss Martha![16] "Dummkopf!" he shouted with extreme loudness. He made a bass drum of Miss Martha's counter. "You haf shpoilt me," he cried, his blue eyes blazing angrily behind his spectacles. "I vill tell you, you vas von meddingsome old cat!"[17] Miss Martha leaned weakly against the showcase, one hand on her best blue-dotted silk shirtwaist as the pipe-smoking stranger gripped the shouting customer by the collar.[18] "Come on, you've said enough." He dragged the irate fellow to the door, and then he turned again to Miss Martha.[19] "Guess you ought to be told, ma'am-that's Blumberger. He's an architectural draftsman in the office where I work. He's been working hard for three months drawing a plan for a new city hall. He was going to enter it in a prize competition; he finished inking in the lines yesterday. You know, a draftsman always makes his drawing in pencil first, and when it's done he rubs out the pencil lines with stale bread crumbs.[20] "Blumberger's been buying the bread here. Well, today--well, you know, ma'am, that butter isn't--well, Blumberger's plan isn't good for anything now." [21] Miss Martha Meacham went into the back room, took off the blue-dotted silk waist, and put on the old brown serge one; then she returned to sit before the counter.(11)那和善的顧客趕快跑到門口去看發生了什麼事，正如其他人一樣。瑪莎小姐此時靈機一動，及時地抓住了這個大賜良機。櫃檯後的貨架底層放着送奶員幾分鐘前剛剛送到的一磅鮮黃油。瑪莎小姐迅速地在兩條麪包上分別深深地切了一刀，慷慨地加進了好多黃油，然後再把麪包壓實。當那位紳士回到櫃檯前時，她正如往常一樣在給麪包打包。［12］他和瑪莎小姐又作了一番非常愉快的交談，然後才離開，瑪莎小姐不由得露出了會心的微笑。她因自己勇敢而又慷慨的衝動而高興，但也感到忐忑不安。自己是不是太不知羞了？他會不會因此而生氣呢？肯定不會；吃的東西又不會說話，黃油也不算是有失女性端莊的象徵啊。(13)那天，她前思後想了好長一陣，想象着他發現她的小把戲時的情景。或許他會放下手中的畫筆和調色板，站在他的畫架旁，而畫架上畫的透視肯定是無可挑剔的。然後，他就會準備午餐----乾麪包加白開水；他會切了一塊麪包----呵！瑪莎小姐想到這兒不禁臉紅起來。他吃飯時會想到放黃油的那隻手嗎？他會不會……(14)前門的門鈴劇烈地響了起來，打斷了瑪莎小姐的美妙推測。她嘆了口氣，匆匆跑到前門，因爲正有人在那兒叫嚷個不停。兩個男人站在櫥窗前。一個年輕的叼着菸斗（她從沒見過這人），另一個就是那位和善的窮畫家，今天上午她那顆溫柔的心還爲他送情呢。(15）他此時的樣子和表現都一反常態----他的臉漲得通紅，帽子向後斜戴着，頭髮也亂成一團。他緊握雙拳衝着瑪莎小姐狠狠地揮動。衝着瑪莎小姐！(16)“你這個大笨蛋！”他拼命叫嚷着，用力地敲着瑪莎小姐的櫃檯，像是在敲低音大鼓。“你毀了我，我告訴你，你是一隻惹事生非的老貓！”他咆哮着，眼鏡後的藍眼睛閃爍着熊熊怒火。(17)瑪莎小姐虛弱無力地倚靠在櫥窗上，一隻手放在她最得意的藍點真絲背心上。這時，那個叼着菸斗的陌生人一把抓住那個大喊大叫的顧客的衣領。(18)“好了，你說得夠多了。”他把那憤怒的人拽到門口，然後又回到瑪莎小姐面前解釋道： (19）“小姐，我想應該告訴您，他叫布盧姆伯傑。他是位建築製圖員，和我同辦公室工作。他已經爲新市政廳的設計圖紙忙碌了三個月。他打算以此作品參加有獎比賽；昨天他終於完成了用墨水描線。您知道，一個製圖員往往先用鉛筆打底，繪圖完成後再用乾麪包屑擦去鉛筆印。(20〕“布盧姆伯傑一直都在您這裏買乾麪包。可是，今天----唉，您知道，小姐，那黃油可不----唉，現在，他的設計圖紙可以說是一錢不值了。”(21)瑪莎·米查姆小姐走進自己的後屋，脫下了那件藍點真絲背心，又換上了那件舊的棕色譁嘰背心；然後她坐回到櫃檯前。
