The Secret Life of Walter Mitty /by James Thurber
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1939/03/18/the-secret-life-of-walter-james-thurber
Walter Mitty ê Pì-bi̍t Seng-oa̍h | Walter Mitty ê 秘密生活
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1. Lí sái hiah kín boeh nî?
"Lán teh boeh thong-kòe ah!" Chí-hui-koaⁿ ê siaⁿ ná chhiūⁿ po̍h peng teh phòa. I ê chè-ho̍k chng-thāⁿ chê-pī, siù-hoe pe̍h kun-bō ah kē, kiông boeh khàm tio̍h chi̍t-lúi peng-léng ê phú-sek ba̍k-chiu. "Lán chò bē-kàu lah, tiúⁿ-koaⁿ. Lí nā mn̄g góa, che sī phò-hāi ê tōa hong-thai." "Góa bô teh mn̄g lí, Berg Tiong-ùi," Chí-hui-koaⁿ kóng. "Tiám tōa-teng! Kā chūn kàu 8,500! Lán teh boeh thong-kòe!" Khì-tâng (cylinder) ê siaⁿ lú lâi lú tōa: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa. Chí-hui-koaⁿ kim-kim siòng kà-sú-tâi po-lê ê kiat-peng. I kiâⁿ kòe-khì, chūn chi̍t-pâi ho̍k-cha̍p ê gî-pió. "Khui 8-Hō hú-chō͘ ki!" i hoah. "Khui 8-Hō hú-chō͘ ki!" Berg Tiong-ùi tòe leh liām. "3-Hō tâi chīn-pōng!" Chí-hui-koaⁿ hoah. "3-Hō tâi chīn-pōng!" Chit-tâi tōa-tâi, kip-poe ê 8-enjín Hái-kun chúi-lio̍k nn̄g-iōng hui-ki téng, àⁿ-sin teh bô-êng ka-tī jīm-bū ê cho͘-oân, sio tùi-khòaⁿ chi̍t-ē, koh gi-chhùi chhiò chi̍t-ē. "Lāu Sian boeh chhōa lán thong-kòe ah," in sio-tòe án-ne kóng. "Lāu Sian m̄-kiaⁿ sí!"
"Mài hiah kín! Lí sái siuⁿ kín ah!" Mitty Tt* kóng. "Lí sái hiah kín boeh nî?" [* Tt = thài-thài]
"Hmm?" Walter Mitty kóng. I kiaⁿ chi̍t-tiô, lia̍h chē tī sin-piⁿ ê bó͘ khòaⁿ chi̍t-ē. Yi khòaⁿ khí-lâi chheⁿ-hūn chheⁿ-hūn, ná-chhiūⁿ tī lâng-tīn tiong-kan tùi i kiò ê bô sio-bat ê cha-bó͘ lâng. "Lí sái kàu boeh 55 mai ah-lah," yi kóng. "Lí chai, góa bô-ài sái-chhia chhiau-kòe 40. Lí tú-chiah sái kàu 55." Walter Mitty kè-sio̍k ǹg Waterbury tiām-tiām sái khì, SN202 thong-kòe Hái-kun hui-hêng 20 nî lâi só͘ tú-kòe siōng tōa ê po̍k-hong-hō͘ ê kōng-kōng kiò ê siaⁿ, tī i sim-lāi iâu-oán koh su-bi̍t ê hâng-tō bān-bān siau-sit. "Lí iū-koh giâ khí-lâi ah," Mitty Tt kóng. "Lí sam-put-sî tō ē án-ne. Góa hi-bāng lí khì hō͘ Renshaw I-su kā lí kiám-cha chi̍t-ē."
Walter Mitty kā chhia thêng tī in bó͘ khì chò thâu-chang ê hit-tòng lâu thâu-chêng. "Tī góa khì chò thâu-chang ê sî, m̄-thang bē-kì-tit khì bé ê-thò," yi kóng. "Góa bô su-iàu ê-thò," Mitty kóng. Yi kā kiàⁿ khǹg tńg-khì bag /ba.guh/. "Lán í-keng lóng keng-kòe he," yi ná kóng, ná lo̍h chhia. "Lí í-keng m̄-sī siàu-liân-ke ah." I kā enjín chhui chi̍t-ē. "Lí ná-ē bô kòa chhiú-thò? Lí ê chhiú-thò phah m̄-kìⁿ sioh?" Walter Mitty chhun chhiú ji̍p lak-tē-á, liú chhut chhiú-thò. I kā he lop hó-sè, m̄-koh tán yi oa̍t-sin kiâⁿ-ji̍p tōa-lâu, i sái-chhia tú-tio̍h âng-teng ê sî, i iū kā thǹg lo̍h-lâi. "Tòe hō͘ tio̍h, hiaⁿ-tī!" chi̍t-ê kéng-chhat tī teng piàn ê sî hoah, Mitty kín koh khiú hó chhiú-thò, ǹg-chêng chhiong chhut-khì. I tī ke-lō͘ se̍h chi̍t-khùn, m̄-chai khì toh hó, jiân-āu, tī boeh khì thêng-chhia-tiûⁿ ê sî, i keng-kòe pēⁿ-īⁿ.
... "Sī hit-ê pah-bān hù-ong gîn-hâng-ka Wellington McMillan," súi hō͘-sū án-ne kóng. "Sī oh?" Walter Mitty kóng, ná bān-bān kā chhiú-thò thǹg lo̍h-lâi. "Che sī siáng ê àn-kiāⁿ?" "Renshaw I-su hām Benbow I-su, m̄-koh chia iáu ū nn̄g-ūi choan-ka, New York ê Remington I-su hām London ê Pritchard-Mitford I-su, i chē hoe-lêng-ki kòe-lâi." Chi̍t-ê ǹg tn̂g-tn̂g, chheng-liâng cháu-lông ê mn̂g khui--khui, Renshaw I-su kiâⁿ chhut-lâi. I khòaⁿ khí-lâi iu-chhiû, ta-sán. "Halo, Mitty," i kóng. "Lán tng-teh chhú-lí siōng kan-lân ê àn-kiāⁿ, sī pah-bān hù-ong gîn-hâng-ka McMillan, i mā sī Roosevelt Chóng-thóng ê hó pêng-iú. Kńg-tō kéⁿ-that (obstreosis). Tē-3 kî. Hi-bāng lí ē-tàng kā khòaⁿ-māi leh." "Góa chin goān-ì," Mitty kóng.
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1. 你駛 hiah 緊欲 nî?
"咱 teh 欲通過 ah!" 指揮官 ê 聲 ná 像薄冰 teh 破. 伊 ê 制服妝 thāⁿ 齊備, 繡花白軍帽 ah 低, 強欲崁著一蕊冰冷 ê 殕色目睭. "咱做袂到 lah, 長官. 你若問我, 這是破害 ê 大風颱." "我無 teh 問你, Berg 中尉," 指揮官講. "點大燈! Kā 捘到 8,500! 咱 teh 欲通過!" 氣筒 (cylinder) ê 聲 lú 來 lú 大: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa. 指揮官金金相駕駛台玻璃 ê 結冰. 伊行過去, 捘一排複雜 ê 儀表. "開 8 號輔助機!" 伊喝. "開 8 號輔助機!" Berg 中尉綴 leh 念. "3 號台盡磅!" 指揮官喝. "3 號台盡磅!" 這台大台, 急飛 ê 8-enjín 海軍水陸兩用飛機頂, àⁿ 身 teh 無閒家己任務 ê 組員, sio 對看一下, koh gi 喙笑一下. "老仙欲 chhōa 咱通過 ah," in 相綴 án-ne 講. "老仙毋驚死!"
"莫 hiah 緊! 你駛 siuⁿ 緊 ah!" Mitty Tt* 講. "你駛 hiah 緊欲 nî?" [* Tt = thài-thài]
"Hmm?" Walter Mitty 講. 伊驚一趒, 掠坐 tī 身邊 ê 某看一下. 她看起來生份生份, ná 像 tī 人陣中間對伊叫 ê 無相捌 ê 查某人. "你駛到欲 55 mai ah-lah," 她講. "你知, 我無愛駛車超過 40. 你拄才駛到 55." Walter Mitty 繼續 ǹg Waterbury 恬恬駛去, SN202 通過海軍飛行 20 年來所拄過上大 ê 暴風雨 ê kōng-kōng 叫 ê 聲, tī 伊心內遙遠 koh 私密 ê 航道慢慢消失. "你又閣夯起來 ah," Mitty Tt 講. "你三不時 tō 會 án-ne. 我希望你去予 Renshaw 醫師 kā 你檢查一下."
Walter Mitty kā 車停 tī in 某去做頭鬃 ê 彼棟樓頭前. "Tī 我去做頭鬃 ê 時, 毋通袂記得去買鞋套," 她講. "我無需要鞋套," Mitty 講. 她 kā 鏡囥轉去 bag /ba.guh/. "咱已經 lóng 經過 he," 她 ná 講, ná 落車. "你已經毋是少年家 ah." 伊 kā enjín 催一下. "你那會無掛手套? 你 ê 手套拍毋見 sioh?" Walter Mitty 伸手入橐袋仔, liú 出手套. 伊 kā he lop 好勢, 毋過等她越身行入大樓, 伊駛車拄著紅燈 ê 時, 伊又 kā 褪落來. "綴予著, 兄弟!" 一个警察 tī 燈變 ê 時喝, Mitty 緊 koh 搝好手套, ǹg 前衝出去. 伊 tī 街路踅一睏, 毋知去佗好, 然後, tī 欲去停車場 ê 時, 伊經過病院.
... "是彼个百萬富翁銀行家 Wellington McMillan," 媠護士 án-ne 講. "是 oh?" Walter Mitty 講, ná 慢慢 kā 手套褪落來. "這是 siáng ê 案件?" "Renshaw 醫師和 Benbow 醫師, 毋過遮猶有兩位專家, New York ê Remington 醫師和 London ê Pritchard-Mitford 醫師, 伊坐飛行機過來." 一个 ǹg 長長, 清涼走廊 ê 門開--開, Renshaw 醫師行出來. 伊看起來憂愁, 焦瘦. "Halo, Mitty," 伊講. "咱 tng-teh 處理上艱難 ê 案件, 是百萬富翁銀行家 McMillan, 伊 mā 是 Roosevelt 總統 ê 好朋友. 管道梗窒 (obstreosis). 第 3 期. 希望你會當 kā 看覓 leh." "我真願意," Mitty 講.
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1.
“We’re going through!” The Commander’s voice was like thin ice breaking. He wore his full-dress uniform, with the heavily braided white cap pulled down rakishly over one cold gray eye. “We can’t make it, sir. It’s spoiling for a hurricane, if you ask me.” “I’m not asking you, Lieutenant Berg,” said the Commander. “Throw on the power lights! Rev her up to 8,500! We’re going through!” The pounding of the cylinders increased: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa. The Commander stared at the ice forming on the pilot window. He walked over and twisted a row of complicated dials. “Switch on No. 8 auxiliary!” he shouted. “Switch on No. 8 auxiliary!” repeated Lieutenant Berg. “Full strength in No. 3 turret!” shouted the Commander. “Full strength in No. 3 turret!” The crew, bending to their various tasks in the huge, hurtling eight-engined Navy hydroplane, looked at each other and grinned. “The Old Man’ll get us through,” they said to one another. “The Old Man ain’t afraid of Hell!” . . .
“Not so fast! You’re driving too fast!” said Mrs. Mitty. “What are you driving so fast for?”
“Hmm?” said Walter Mitty. He looked at his wife, in the seat beside him, with shocked astonishment. She seemed grossly unfamiliar, like a strange woman who had yelled at him in a crowd. “You were up to fifty-five,” she said. “You know I don’t like to go more than forty. You were up to fifty-five.” Walter Mitty drove on toward Waterbury in silence, the roaring of the SN202 through the worst storm in twenty years of Navy flying fading in the remote, intimate airways of his mind. “You’re tensed up again,” said Mrs. Mitty. “It’s one of your days. I wish you’d let Dr. Renshaw look you over.”
Walter Mitty stopped the car in front of the building where his wife went to have her hair done. “Remember to get those overshoes while I’m having my hair done,” she said. “I don’t need overshoes,” said Mitty. She put her mirror back into her bag. “We’ve been all through that,” she said, getting out of the car. “You’re not a young man any longer.” He raced the engine a little. “Why don’t you wear your gloves? Have you lost your gloves?” Walter Mitty reached in a pocket and brought out the gloves. He put them on, but after she had turned and gone into the building and he had driven on to a red light, he took them off again. “Pick it up, brother!” snapped a cop as the light changed, and Mitty hastily pulled on his gloves and lurched ahead. He drove around the streets aimlessly for a time, and then he drove past the hospital on his way to the parking lot.
. . . “It’s the millionaire banker, Wellington McMillan,” said the pretty nurse. “Yes?” said Walter Mitty, removing his gloves slowly. “Who has the case?” “Dr. Renshaw and Dr. Benbow, but there are two specialists here, Dr. Remington from New York and Dr. Pritchard-Mitford from London. He flew over.” A door opened down a long, cool corridor and Dr. Renshaw came out. He looked distraught and haggard. “Hello, Mitty,” he said. “We’re having the devil’s own time with McMillan, the millionaire banker and close personal friend of Roosevelt. Obstreosis of the ductal tract. Tertiary. Wish you’d take a look at him.” “Glad to,” said Mitty.
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