在午夜时分，咖啡馆里人满为患。我坐的那张小桌子恰好空着，两把空椅子向新来的客人伸出欢迎的手臂。

AT MIDNIGHT THE CAFÉ was crowded. By some chance the little table at which I sat had escaped the eye of incomers, and two vacant chairs at it extended their arms with venal hospitality to the influx of patrons. 

这时，一位自称世界主义者的男子坐在其中一把椅子上，我很高兴，因为我一直认为，自从亚当以来，真正的世界公民并不存在。我们听说过他们，看到行李上贴着外国标签，但我们遇到的只是旅行者，而非世界主义者。

And then a cosmopolite sat in one of them, and I was glad, for I held a theory that since Adam no true citizen of the world has existed. We hear of them, and we see foreign labels on much luggage, but we find travellers instead of cosmopolites.

我想描述一下当时的场景：大理石桌面，皮革包裹的靠背座椅，欢乐的人群，穿着半正式服装的女士们，谈吐高雅，话题涉及时尚、经济、奢华或艺术；勤奋且热爱小费的服务员们，音乐巧妙地迎合各种口味，欢声笑语交织在一起——如果你愿意的话，还有高脚玻璃杯中的维尔茨堡啤酒，仿佛成熟的樱桃在枝头摇曳，等待着偷食的鸟儿。我曾被一位来自莫克昌克的雕塑家告知，这场景堪称真正的巴黎风情。

I invoke your consideration of the scene - the marble-topped tables, the range of leather-upholstered wall seats, the gay com­ pany, the ladies dressed in demi-state toilets, speaking in an exquisite visible chorus of taste, economy, opulence or art, the sedulous and largess-loving garçons, the music wisely catering to all with its raids upon the composers; the mélange of talk and laughter - and, if you will, the Würzburger in the tall glass cones that bend to your lips as a ripe cherry sways on its branch to the beak of a robber jay. I was told by a sculptor from Mauch Chunk that the scene was truly Parisian. 

我的这位世界主义者名叫E·拉什莫尔·科格兰，他告诉我，明年夏天他将在康尼岛亮相，计划在那里开设一项新的“景点”，提供国王般的娱乐。接着，他的谈话跨越了纬度和经度的界限。他熟练地、轻蔑地掌控着这个大而圆的世界，仿佛它不过是餐桌上葡萄柚中的一颗马拉斯奇诺樱桃的种子那么大。他不尊重赤道，从一个大陆跳到另一个大陆，嘲笑气候带，用餐巾擦拭大海。他挥手提到海得拉巴的集市，哗啦！他带你去拉普兰滑雪。嗖！你和卡纳卡人一起在凯阿莱卡希基的海浪中驰骋。突然！他把你拖过阿肯色州的橡树林沼泽，让你在爱达荷州牧场的碱性平原上晾干片刻，然后迅速带你进入维也纳大公的社交圈。接着，他会告诉你，他在芝加哥湖风中感冒，如何在布宜诺斯艾利斯的埃斯卡米拉用楚楚拉草的热汤治愈。你会觉得，给他写信时，只需在信封上写“E·拉什莫尔·科格兰，地球，太阳系，宇宙”，然后寄出，确信他会收到。

My cosmopolite was named E. Rushmore Coglan, and he will be heard from next summer at Coney Island. He is to establish a new 'attraction' there, he informed me, offering kingly diversion. And then his conversation rang along parallels of latitude and lon­ gitude. He took the great, round world in his hand, so to speak, familiarly, contemptuously, and it seemed no larger than the seed of a Maraschino cherry in a table-d'hôte grape fruit. He spoke dis­ respectfully of the equator, he skipped from continent to conti­ nent, he derided the zones, he mopped up the high seas with his napkin. With a wave of his hand he would speak of a certain bazaar in Hyderabad. Whiff! He would have you on skis in Lap­ land. Zip! Now you rode the breakers with the Kanakas at Kealaikahiki. Presto! He dragged you through an Arkansas post- oak swamp, let you dry for a moment on the alkali plains of his Idaho ranch, then whirled you into the society of Viennese arch­ dukes. Anon he would be telling you of a cold he acquired in a Chicago lake breeze and how old Escamila cured it in Buenos Ayres with a hot infusion of the chuchula weed. You would have addressed the letter to 'E. Rushmore Coglan, Esq., the Earth, Solar System, the Universe,' and have mailed it, feeling confident that it would be delivered to him. 

我确信自己终于找到了自亚当以来唯一的真正世界主义者，我听着他环游世界的言论，担心在其中发现仅仅是环球旅行者的地方口音。但他的观点始终如一；他对城市、国家和大陆的态度公正无私，如同风或引力。

I was sure that I had at last found the one true cosmopolite since Adam, and I listened to his world-wide discourse fearful lest I should discover in it the local note of the mere globe-trotter. But his opinions never fluttered or drooped; he was as impartial to cities, countries and continents as the winds or gravitation. 

当E·拉什莫尔·科格兰喋喋不休地谈论这个小小的星球时，我愉快地想起了一位几乎是世界主义者的伟大人物，他为全世界写作，并将自己献给孟买。在一首诗中，他提到地球上的城市之间存在骄傲和竞争，“那些从中诞生的人们，他们来来往往，但像孩子依恋母亲的衣襟一样依恋自己的城市。”每当他们走过“未知的喧嚣街道”时，他们会记得自己出生的城市“最忠诚、最愚蠢、最深情；让她那微弱的名字成为他们的纽带。”我感到高兴，因为我发现了吉卜林的疏漏。在这里，我找到了一个非尘世之人；他没有狭隘的出生地或国家的自豪感，如果他要夸耀，那就是夸耀整个圆形地球，挑战火星人和月球居民。

And as E. Rushmore Coglan prattled of this little planet I thought with glee of a great almost-cosmopolite who wrote for the whole world and dedicated himself to Bombay. In a poem he has to say that there is pride and rivalry between the cities of the earth, and that 'the men that breed from them, they traffic up and down, but cling to their cities' hem as a child to the mother's gown.' And whenever they walk 'by roaring streets unknown' they remember their native city 'most faithful, foolish, fond; making her mere-breathed name their bond upon their bond.' And my glee was roused because I had caught Mr. Kipling napping. Here I had found a man not made from dust; one who had no narrow boasts of birthplace or country, one who, if he bragged at all, would brag of his whole round globe against the Martians and the inhabitants of the Moon. 

这些话题的表达被E·拉什莫尔·科格兰在我们桌子的第三个角落引发。就在他向我描述西伯利亚铁路沿线的地形时，乐队奏起了一段混合曲目。最后一首曲子是《狄克西》，当激动人心的旋律响起时，几乎被几乎每张桌子上热烈的掌声所淹没。

Expression on these subjects was precipitated from E. Rush- more Coglan by the third corner to our table. While Coglan was describing to me the topography along the Siberian Railway the orchestra glided into a medley. The concluding air was 'Dixie,' and as the exhilarating notes tumbled forth they were almost over­ powered by a great clapping of hands from almost every table. 

值得一提的是，这种场景每天晚上都可以在纽约市的众多咖啡馆中看到。关于此现象，已经有大量的讨论。有人匆忙猜测，所有南方人都会在傍晚涌向咖啡馆。南方歌曲在北方城市的掌声确实让人困惑，但并非无法解释。与西班牙的战争、多年的薄荷和西瓜丰收、在新奥尔良赛马场的几次长线获胜，以及印第安纳州和堪萨斯州的公民为北卡罗来纳州协会举办的盛大宴会，使南方在曼哈顿成为一种“时尚”。你的美甲师会轻声说，你的左手食指让她想起了弗吉尼亚州里士满的一位绅士。哦，当然；但现在许多女士不得不工作——战争，你知道的。

It is worth a paragraph to say that this remarkable scene can be witnessed every evening in numerous cafés in the City of New York. Tons of brew have been consumed over theories to account for it. Some have conjectured hastily that all Southerners in town hie themselves to cafés at nightfall. This applause of the 'rebel' air in a Northern city does puzzle a little; but it is not insolvable. The war with Spain, many years' generous mint and water-melon crops, a few long-shot winners at the New Orleans race-track, and the brilliant banquets given by the Indiana and Kansas citizens who compose the North Carolina Society, have made the South rather a 'fad' in Manhattan. Your manicure will lisp softly that your left forefinger reminds her so much of a gentleman's in Rich­ mond, Va. Oh, certainly; but many a lady has to work now - the war, you know. 

在《狄克西》乐曲奏响时，一位黑发的年轻人突然从人群中跳起来，发出类似莫兹比游击队的叫声，疯狂地挥舞着他的软边帽。然后，他穿过烟雾，坐到了我们桌前的空椅子上，掏出了香烟。

When 'Dixie' was being played a dark-haired young man sprang up from somewhere with a Mosby guerrilla yell and waved frantically his soft-brimmed hat. Then he strayed through the smoke, dropped into the vacant chair at our table and pulled out cigarettes. 

这个时刻是晚上那种保留被解冻的时刻。我们其中一个点了三杯维尔茨堡啤酒，黑发的年轻人通过微笑和点头表示他也在点单中。我急忙问他一个问题，因为我想试验一个我自己有的理论。

The evening was at the period when reserve is thawed. One of us mentioned three Würzburgers to the waiter; the dark-haired young man acknowledged his inclusion in the order by a smile and a nod. I hastened to ask him a question because I wanted to try out a theory I had. 

“能告诉我，”我开始说，“你是从——”

'Would you mind telling me,' I began, 'whether you are from - ' 

E·拉什莫尔·科格兰的拳头重重砸在桌子上，我被震住了，立刻沉默。

The fist of E. Rushmore Coglan banged the table and I was jarred into silence. 

“抱歉，”他说，“但这是我不愿意听到的问题。一个人来自哪里有什么关系呢？凭一个人所在的邮政地址来评判他公正吗？我见过讨厌威士忌的肯塔基人、没有波卡洪塔斯血统的弗吉尼亚人、没写过小说的印第安纳人、不穿银钱刺绣裤的墨西哥人、搞笑的英国人、挥霍的洋基、冷血的南方人、狭隘的西部人和忙得连在街上看一个独臂杂货店店员包干红莓都没时间的纽约人。让一个人做一个人，不要因为他来自某个地方就给他贴上标签。”

'Excuse me,' said he, 'but that's a question I never like to hear asked. What does it matter where a man is from? Is it fair to judge a man by his post-office address? Why, I've seen Kentuckians who hated whisky, Virginians who weren't descended from Pocahon­ tas, Indianians who hadn't written a novel, Mexicans who didn't wear velvet trousers with silver dollars sewed along the seams, funny Englishmen, spendthrift Y ankees, cold-blooded Southern­ ers, narrow-minded Westerners, and New Yorkers who were too busy to stop for an hour on the street to watch a one-armed grocer's clerk do up cranberries in paper bags. Let a man be a man and don't handicap him with the label of any section.' 

“抱歉，”我说，“但我的好奇心并非完全出于闲聊。我了解南方，每当乐队奏响《狄克西》，我喜欢观察。我曾经有一个看法，那些特别激烈鼓掌并显得非常有地方忠诚的人，通常是来自新泽西州塞考克斯，或者是本市穆雷山学会和哈莱姆河之间的区域。我本来想通过询问这位先生来验证我的观点，但您打断了我，提出了一个更大范围的理论，我必须承认。”

'Pardon me,' I said, 'but my curiosity was not altogether an idle one. I know the South, and when the band plays "Dixie" I like to observe. I have formed the belief that the man who applauds that air with special violence and ostensible sectional loyalty is invari­ ably a native of either Secaucus, N.J., or the district between Murray Hill Lyceum and the Harlem River, this city. I was about to put my opinion to the test by inquiring of this gentleman when you interrupted with your own - larger theory, I must confess.' 

这时，黑发的年轻人对我开口了，显然他的思维也走着自己的轨道。

And now the dark-haired young man spoke to me, and it became evident that his mind also moved along its own set of grooves. 

“我想做一颗紫菜花，”他说，神秘地，“在山谷的顶端，唱‘图啦噜图啦噜’。”

'I should like to be a periwinkle,' said he, mysteriously, 'on the top of a valley, and sing too-ralloo-ralloo.' 

这显然太晦涩了，于是我再次转向科格兰。

This was clearly too obscure, so I turned again to Coglan. 

“我已经绕了地球十二圈，”他说。“我认识一个住在乌佩尔纳维克的爱斯基摩，他从辛辛那提订领带；我还见过一个在乌拉圭的牧羊人，他在战利品早餐谷物竞赛中获奖。我在埃及开罗租了间房，每年都会租，另外在横滨也有一间。我在上海有等着我穿的拖鞋，在里约热内卢或西雅图，不用告诉他们怎么煮我的鸡蛋。这个世界真是小得很。有什么用吹嘘自己来自北方、南方，或者是来自山谷中的旧宅，或者克利夫兰的欧几里得大道，或者派克峰，或者弗吉尼亚州的费尔法克斯县，或者胡里根的平原，任何地方？当我们不再对某些霉变的小镇或十英亩的沼泽地吹嘘时，世界会更美好。”

'I've been around the world twelve times,' said he. 'I know an Esquimau in Upernavik who sends to Cincinnati for his neckties, and I saw a goat-herder in Uruguay who won a prize in a Battle Creek breakfast-food puzzle competition. I pay rent on a room in Cairo, Egypt, and another in Yokohama all the year round. I've got slippers waiting for me in a tea-house in Shanghai, and I don't have to tell 'em how to cook my eggs in Rio de Janeiro or Seattle. It's a mighty little old world. What's the use of bragging about being from the North, or the South, or the old manor-house in the dale, or Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, or Pike's Peak, or Fairfax County, Va., or Hooligan's Flats or any place? It'll be a better world when we quit being fools about some mildewed town or ten acres of swampland just because we happened to be born there.' 

“你似乎真的是个世界主义者，”我钦佩地说。“但似乎你也在抨击爱国主义。”

'You seem to be a genuine cosmopolite,' I said admiringly. 'But it also seems that you would decry patriotism.' 

“那是石器时代的遗物，”科格兰热情地说。“我们都是兄弟——中国人、英国人、祖鲁人、巴塔哥尼亚人和卡瓦河弯道的居民。总有一天，这种对城市、州、地区或国家的微不足道的自豪感会被抹去，我们都会成为世界公民，就像我们应该的那样。”

'A relic of the stone age,' declared Coglan warmly. 'We are all brothers - Chinamen, Englishmen, Zulus, Patagonians, and the people in the bend of the Kaw River. Some day all this petty pride in one's city or state or section or country will be wiped out, and we'll all be citizens of the world, as we ought to be.' 

“但当你在外国流浪时，”我坚持道，“难道你不会想起某个地方——某个亲爱的……”

'But while you are wandering in foreign lands,' I persisted, 'do not your thoughts revert to some spot - some dear and - ' 

“一个地方也没有，”E·拉什莫尔·科格兰轻描淡写地打断我。“这个被称为地球的、略微在两极扁平的、属于行星级别的球形物体是我的家。我在国外遇到过不少被物体绑住的美国公民。我见过几个芝加哥人坐在威尼斯的贡多拉上，月光下大肆吹嘘他们的排水沟。我见过一个南方人，他在被介绍给英国国王时，毫不眨眼地告诉那位君主，他的外祖母曾与查尔斯顿的帕金森家族有婚姻关系。我认识一个纽约人，他在阿富汗被绑架为人质。他的家人给他送了赎金，他和代理人一起回到喀布尔。“阿富汗？”当地人通过翻译问他。“你不觉得慢了吗？”“哦，我不知道，”他说，然后开始讲起他在第六大道和百老汇的一位出租车司机。那些观念不适合我。我不受任何非8,000英里直径物体的束缚。只要记住我是E·拉什莫尔·科格兰，地球居民。”

'Nary a spot,' interrupted E. R. Coglan flippantly. 'The terres­ trial, globular, planetary hunk of matter, slightly flattened at the poles, and known as the Earth, is my abode. I've met a good many object-bound citizens of this country abroad. I've seen men from Chicago sit in a gondola in Venice on a moonlight night and brag about their drainage canal. I've seen a Southerner on being intro­ duced to the King of England hand that monarch, without batting his eyes, the information that his grandaunt on his mother's side was related by marriage to the Perkinses, of Charleston. I knew a New Yorker who was kidnapped for ransom by some Afghanistan bandits. His people sent over the money and he came back to Kabul with the agent. "Afghanistan?" the natives said to him through an interpreter. "Well, not so slow, do you think?" "Oh, I don't know," says he, and he begins to tell them about a cab-driver at Sixth Avenue and Broadway. Those ideas don't suit me. I'm not tied down to anything that isn't 8,000 miles in diameter. Just put me down as E. Rushmore Coglan, citizen of the terrestrial sphere.' 

我的世界主义者告别了我，离开了，因为他觉得看到某个他认识的人，穿过喧嚣的烟雾。我只好留下那个想成为紫菜花的人，他只得继续喝维尔茨堡啤酒，再也无法表达自己想要飞到山谷顶端的梦想。

My cosmopolite made a large adieu and left me, for he thought that he saw someone through the chatter and smoke whom he knew. So I was left with the would-be periwinkle, who was reduced to Würzburger without further ability to voice his aspirations to perch, melodious, upon the summit of a valley. 

我坐在那里，思考着我的世界主义者，心中猜测那位诗人怎么错过了他。他是我的发现，我相信他。他不是那种“从他们的土地上出生的人，四处交易，却像孩子抓住母亲裙摆一样，紧紧抓住自己城市的边缘”的人。

I sat reflecting upon my evident cosmopolite and wondering how the poet had managed to miss him. He was my discovery and I believed in him. How was it? 'The men that breed from them they traffic up and down, but cling to their cities' hem as a child to the mother's gown.' 

而E·拉什莫尔·科格兰，不是这样的。他的世界是……

Not so E. Rushmore Coglan. With the whole world for his - 

我的冥想被一阵巨大的噪音和冲突打断。我看见在咖啡馆的另一端，E·拉什莫尔·科格兰和一位我不认识的陌生人正在进行一场激烈的战斗。他们像泰坦一样在桌子间搏斗，玻璃杯碎裂，帽子被抢起，男子被打倒，一个深色头发的女人尖叫，另一位金发女子开始唱《戏弄》。

My meditations were interrupted by a tremendous noise and conflict in another part of the café. I saw above the heads of the seated patrons E. Rushmore Coglan and a stranger to me engaged in terrific battle. They fought between the tables like Titans, and glasses crashed, and men caught their hats up and were knocked down, and a brunette screamed, and a blonde began to sing 'Teas­ ing.' 

我的世界主义者正在为地球的尊严与荣誉而战，这时服务员们齐心协力，采用他们著名的飞行楔阵，快速将他们两个拖了出去，尽管他们仍在抗拒。

My cosmopolite was sustaining the pride and reputation of the Earth when the waiters closed in on both combatants with their famous flying wedge formation and bore them outside, still resist­ ing. 

我叫来了麦卡锡，一位法国服务员，问他发生了什么事。

I called McCarthy, one of the French garçons, and asked him the cause of the conflict. 

“那个戴红领带的男人，”他说，“因为另一个家伙说他来自的地方人行道差、水供不够，他才火冒三丈。”

'The man with the red tie'(that was my cosmopolite), saidhe, 'got hot on account of things said about the bum sidewalksand water supply of the place he come from by the other guy.' 

“为什么，”我困惑地问，“那人是个世界公民，世界主义者。他……”

'Why,' said I, bewildered, 'that man is a citizen of the world - a cosmopolite. H e - ' 

“他原本来自缅因州马塔瓦姆基，”麦卡锡接着说，“他就是受不了有人批评那个地方。”

'Originally from Mattawamkeag, Maine, he said,' continued McCarthy, 'and he wouldn't stand for no knockin' the place.' 

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