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My Bank Account
我的银行账户
Stephen Leacock
史蒂芬·里考克
When I go into a bank I get frightened. The clerks frighten me; the desks frighten me; the sight of the money frightens me; everything frightens me.
我走进银行的时候，我感到恐惧。银行职员让我感到恐惧，银行的柜台桌子让我感到恐惧，看到钞票让我感到恐惧，所有的一切都让我感到恐惧。
The moment I pass through the doors of a bank and attempt to do business there, I become an irresponsible fool.
我穿过银行那一道道大门准备去办理业务时，我就成了一个颠三倒四的傻瓜。
I knew this before, but my salary had been raised to fifty dollars a month and I felt that the bank was the only place for it.
这点我以前就知道，但是我的月薪已经涨到了50美元，我认为银行是唯一能存放这些钱的地方。
So I walked unsteadily in and looked round at the clerks with fear. I had an idea that a person who was about to open an account must necessarily consult the manager.
于是我摇摇晃晃地走了进去，提心吊胆地看着周围的职员们。我想到一个人要想开账户，就有必要咨询一下经理。
I went up to a place marked "Accountant". The accountant was a tall, cool devil. The very sight of him frightened me. My voice sounded as if it came from the grave.
我向一个标有“会计”字样的地方走去，会计师是一个高大、冷酷的家伙。 一看到他我就心惊胆颤，我的声音像是从坟墓里传出来一样。
"Can I see the manager?" I said, and added solemnly, "alone." I don't know why I said "alone".
“我能见经理吗?”我问他，然后很严肃地加了一句“单独”。我不明白我为什么要说“单独”。
"Certainly," said the accountant, and brought him.
“当然可以”会计师说完便找来了经理。
The manager was a calm, serious man. I held my fifty-six dollars, pressed I together in a ball, in my pocket.
经理是一个镇定、严肃的人。我的手插在兜里，把56美元攥成一个纸团儿。
"Are you the manager?" I said. God knows I didn't doubt it.
“你是经理吗？”我说。其实我对此毫不怀疑。
