Winter was coming, and Soapy, one of the many thousands of New York pickpockets2, felt uneasy. He had to find a place to spend the winter. He did not ask for too much. Three months in prison was all that he wanted. For several years prison was his “home” for winter, where he was sure to get a little food, a bed and safety from the cold New York wind.
Having decided to get to prison to spend the winter, Soapy started to realize his plan. There were many ways to go to prison. The most pleasant thing was to enjoy a good meal in an expensive3 restaurant and then, after saying that he had no money to pay, he would be arrested4 by a policeman and sent to prison by a judge.
With this idea in mind, he was walking along Broadway5 looking at the expensive goods in the fashionable shops. He stopped at the windows of a brightly-lit6 cafe7. Freshly shaven8, with goodlooking coat, he appeared rather cool, but his poor trousers told clearly that he was poor indeed. Anyhow, he decided to have a try. Who knows he will fail before a try? “If I can reach a table in the expensive restaurant before they drive me away because of my poverty,” he thought, “everything will be going well on the way to prison. The upper part of me will show to the waiter that I have enough money to pay for a meal. A roast duck9, a bottle of wine, a cup of coffee will make me happy on my journey to my winter's home, a warm home.”
But just as he entered the restaurant the headwaiter's eyes felt on his poor trousers. Strong hands turned him round and pushed him outside. His dream was broken for the first time.
Soapy turned off Broadway. He had to think of another way to get into prison. At a corner of Sixth Avenue10 he saw a brightly-lit shop window. He picked up a stone and threw it at the glass. People came running around the corner, and a policeman came too—but he just looked with much interest, knowing what Soapy meant. Soapy stood still, smiling.
“Where's the man who did it?” shouted the cop.
“Don't you think I did?” said Soapy in a friendly way.
The cop looked at him confusedly11. Men who break windows do not usually remain to talk to a cop; they'd run away instead. Suddenly the cop saw a man hurrying to catch a bus. Club in hand, the cop ran after that man, shouting all the way. Poor Soapy, he failed the second time.
On the other side of the street was a small cheap restaurant. Into it he went, sat down at a table and ate a beefsteak12 and much apple pie13. He finished the meal and then said to the waiter: “Now call a cop. I can't pay. Don't keep a gentleman waiting.”
“No cop for you,” said the waiter. Seized by the collar14, Soapy was thrown out of the restaurant. He stood up, beating the dust off his coat. He felt a little pain. How difficult it was to be caught by the cop! Why did a prison seem so far away? At that moment a cop who stood before a drug store15 laughed and walked away.
He was just passing a cigar16 store when he saw a well-dressed man go in, leaving his umbrella17 at the entrance. Soapy walked in too, took the umbrella and slowly continued his way outside, making much noise with the umbrella. The owner noticed his missing umbrella and shouted to Soapy: “Please, that's my umbrella!”
“Oh, is it?” said Soapy, “Well, why don't you call the cop? There's one at the corner.”
The owner slowed his steps. Soapy did the same. The cop looked at the two curiously.
“Of course,” said the owner, “That's your—your umbrella. You know, you know, how mistakes happen those days. I picked it up this morning in a restaurant. If you recognized18 it as yours, then get it. I hope you'll—”With these words, the man walked away, giving up.
Soapy had nothing to do but call the cop by his name19.
At last he reached a street where there was little traffic. At a quiet corner he suddenly stopped. There was an old church in front of him. Through the windows a soft light shone20, and the sweet music of the Sabbath21 anthem made him walk toward the iron fence.
The moon hung above, cold and beautiful. The music helped him think of those days when life was not so bad, when his mother took care of him, when he happened to see the beautiful roses. Soapy was deep in thought. He listened to the music, looked at the moon and murmured22 to himself: “There is time yet. I'll reform23, to be a good man, to be an honest man. I'll no longer do anything bad. I will—I will—”
Just then Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked round to see the broad face of a cop.
“What are you doing here? Thinking of robbing the church, eh? Come along.”
“Three months' imprisonment24.”said the judge in the police court the next morning.
1．O．Henry, 美国作家，真名为William Sidney Porter（1876－1910）。代表作有《麦琪的礼物》、《一片树叶》等。本文由其名篇《警察与赞美诗》改写而成。Cop即 policeman的浑号； anthem指宗教（尤其是基督教）仪式上唱的赞美诗。
2．pickpocket n．小偷
3．expensive adj．昂贵的
4．arrest v．逮捕
5．Broadway n．百老汇
6．lit 即light（照亮）的过去分词
7．cafe n．小餐馆
8．shaven 是shave 之过去分词，意为“刮了胡子的” 9．roast duck 烤鸭
10．avenue n．街道
11．confusedly adv．困惑不解地
12．beefsteak n．牛排
13．apple pie n．苹果派（酱）
14．collar n．（衣服的）领子
15．drugstore n．药店
16．cigar n．雪茄
17．umbrella n．伞
18．recognize v．辨认（出）
19．此句意为：他把那警察给骂了一顿
20．shone 为shine 之过去式，意为“发亮”
21．Sabbath n．（基督教的）安息日
22．murmur v．喃喃地说
23．reform v．改过自新
24．imprisonment n．监禁