"Socrates" describes the genetic phenomenon of mutating dogs using scientific methods. This kind of mutant dog can even communicate with humans, which is of course very absurd; but the main point of the story reveals that animals can undergo unexpected mutations, but inevitably maintain certain inherent genetic characteristics. The work also ironically points out that the results of scientific exploration often fall into the hands of people who do not understand science by chance, seriously affecting scientific research.
Living things exist with us. Life sciences were a major subject of scientific research in the second half of the twentieth century. "Socrates" is about dogs, but it actually encourages people to explore various creatures.
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That afternoon, I closed the door of the laboratory and wanted to take a bus into the city. I was walking towards the gate when suddenly there came a burst of screams from the dog-keeper's hut. I am a person who loves animals by nature, and I especially don’t want to hear their painful cries, so I walked through the gate and walked directly to the dog keeper’s yard. What I saw literally made my skin stand on end.
Jennings, the dog watcher, was holding a puppy in his hand and slammed its head against the wall. At his feet lay three dead puppies. , as I walked through the gate, he dropped the fourth one into the pile and picked up the squirming puppy, the last of the litter. I shouted sternly:
"Zhannings, what's going on?"
He turned around, still holding the puppy in his hand. A hateful-looking man, looking simply murderous at the moment.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asked, "Killing a bunch of losers - that's what I do."
He picked up the puppy Let me see.
"Look," he continued, "take a good look at this puppy, and you'll understand why I did what I did."
I looked carefully . To be honest, I have never seen such a strange puppy: it has dirty tawny hair and surprisingly thick legs, but what attracts me is the head, which is bigger than any ordinary puppy of its kind. The head was three times as big; although its neck was strong enough, the big head looked like a big apple growing on a twig.
"Yes, a strange puppy indeed," I admitted.
"Strange?" Jennings shouted. "It's a monster. I told it to cooperate by calling it that," he said angrily, staring at me. "Besides, I know what's going on. I'm not a fool! Two weeks ago, there was a small report in the Sunday newspaper. , you installed some X-ray machines in that big house. The newspaper said that these X-rays can affect the little things in the mother's belly and make them grow into monsters. Do you expect this litter to grow into purebred rough-haired dogs? I don't think any of them will grow into even decent mongrels! This litter cost at least thirty pounds."
"It's a pity," I said. "But I'm sure the company won't be held responsible. It's inexcusable that you failed to lock up that bitch and let her run loose. You failed to read another article in the Sunday paper a few weeks ago." Too bad, you could have at least locked her up a little longer, you know you were warned not to let her near that factory."
"Yes," he yelled angrily, "I did. I know it’s a dream to make money from these bastards, but at least I can smash their heads for fun!”
As he said that, he picked up the puppy and prepared to throw it against the wall! . The puppy had not been humming while we were talking, but now it let out a low whine and opened its eyes, which seemed to strangely indicate that it had been listening to us and knew that it would be over soon. . I grabbed Jennings roughly.
"Wait a minute!" I said, "When did you say these dogs were born?"
"This morning," he replied angrily.
"The dog's eyes are open," I said. "Look at their color! Have you ever seen a shaggy dog ??with blue eyes before?"
He smiled maliciously. "Has anyone ever seen a rough-haired dog with a head like this or hair like this? It's not a rough-haired dog at all. It's a bad breed. I know how to deal with it."
The little thing whined, as if he knew that shouting loudly was useless. I took out my wallet.
"I paid a pound for it," I said.
Zhannings whistled. "You must be crazy," he said, "But what does it have to do with me? If you give me the money, take it. Do you want to take it away now?"
"Not now," I said He said, "My landlady won't let me take a puppy home with me. If you'll take care of it until I find a suitable place, I'll pay you ten shillings a week. How's that deal?"
He stretched out his hand: "Pay first?"
I gave him the money.
"I'll take care of it, boss, even if it doesn't catch my eye. No matter what, Glory will always have something to consume his milk."
I visited the little thing at least once and sometimes twice a day. It grew surprisingly fast. At the end of the second week, Jennings asked me to increase the feeding fee by 2 shillings and 6 pence, and I had no choice but to agree. This little thing only had milk for less than a week. Since then, it has been eating on its own and has a frightening appetite.
Jennings looked at the puppy and scratched its tangled head: "I don't understand. I've never seen a puppy like this; Glory didn't teach it how to eat. , how to drink, it just squatted in the corner and looked at her. One day when I brought the food, it pounced on me like a hungry wolf. This is not normal."
Looking at that. The little guy was eating, and I was surprised myself. This little guy was eating better than his mother. You could literally see it growing. And that cleverness! Once, when he was about fourteen days old, I saw him carefully removing the latch of the kennel door with his paws, and running out to steal a snack, which Jennings had left there when he went to close the door. It was at that stage that what impressed me deeply was not the obvious cleverness, but the way Jennings and I often caught him staring at us when we talked about him on the fence of the dog house: he sat There, attentive, with one ear erect and a broad forehead, there was nothing like the confused frown on a dog's face.
One day, Jennings asked me: "Don't you want to give it a name yet?"
"I have," I said, "I want to call it Socrates." "
"Socrates?" He repeated, "About football?"
I laughed. "Thousands of years ago, there was a great thinker who also had such a name. He was a Greek."
"Oh!" Jennings said contemptuously, "A Greek..."
One Friday night, I brought a friend who was very knowledgeable about dogs to see Socrates. I was not surprised that Jennings was not at home, as he got drunk at least one night a week, and his favorite time was Friday night. I took my friend to the kennel.
He looked at Socrates and said nothing. After three weeks, it has grown as big as a pig, fox or dog. My friend looked at it carefully, like a prize winner at a craft competition, then he put down Socrates, turned to me and asked:
"How old did you say this dog is?" ?”
I told him.
He shook his head. "If anyone else had told me, I would have been lying," he said. "Man, I've never seen a puppy like that, and that head... you said the whole litter was the same. ?”
“The bodies all look the same anyway,” I told him, “that’s why I was particularly impressed.
In our laboratories we might well have had some deformed mutants - two-headed rats and that sort of thing - but a litter of five would all be the same! To me, this looks like a real variant. "
"I don't really believe it is a mutation," he said, "but the litter is all exactly the same. In my opinion, it is a real breed. That idiot killed them all, what a shame! "
"This guy killed a goose that might have laid him a few golden eggs," I said. "Not to mention its scientific importance--you can imagine life scientists paying attention to it. Mad with excitement - a variant like this could have been worth a fortune, and perhaps even this one dog had a bright future! Look! ”
At this time, Socrates kicked an old tin can to the wall of the dog house and tried to step on it to climb over the fence, which blocked the way to the outside. He used his paws on the top of the fence. I scratched around for a while
"Good guy! "My friend yelled, "If he can do this in a month..."
We turned and left the kennel. When we came out, we met Jennings head-on. He staggered past us drunkenly.
“Come and feed little Socrates? "He said vaguely.
I grabbed his shoulders. "That's right," I said. "We have taken care of them. "
When I went there the next day, I found a big sign hanging on the door of the dog house, which read in a messy way: "No entry allowed." "
I pushed the door and found that it was locked. I looked around and Jennings was staring at me.
"Hello, professor! "He said, "Don't you know how to read?
"Jennings," I said, "I'm here to hold Socrates, who my friend plans to keep in his dog house."
He grinned. "Sorry," he said, "this dog is not for sale." "
"What do you mean? I cried, "I bought it four weeks ago, and I've been paying you to take care of it." ”
“Is there any evidence? he asked, "did you get the receipt?" ”
“Stop it, Jennings! "I said, "Open the door! ”
“You must at least have a witness! "He said, walking towards me with an air of trust.
"Listen to me," he said, "You are a reasonable man. Last night, I heard you telling your friend that the dog was a valuable thing. You know this dog belongs to me. I am also a reasonable person. Here is three pounds and five shillings, which is the money I collected from you in the past four weeks. This puppy is my money tree! You wouldn't try to deceive someone like me! I lost five pounds in feeding fees for that litter of puppies! "
"It's too cheap," I said. "Don't forget, you originally planned to throw the puppy to death! If you hadn't overheard my private conversation with my friend yesterday, I'm afraid you wouldn't even know that this is an extraordinary dog! "I took out my wallet. "Here are ten pounds, which is enough to pay your feeding fee, and it can also make you a lot of money!
He shook his head. "I'm not selling, professor. I know my legal rights. You have no proof; I have ownership rights." ”
“You idiot! I said, "What do you want this dog for?" It has to be observed, tested, and trained by scientists, of which you know nothing. "
Zhannings spit into the ground. "Scientist! he shouted, "I will never give it to scientists!" I have saved a little money. I will leave here tomorrow and I will train it. In a few months, you can wait and see the big advertisement in the theater - George Jennings and his magic dog Socrates! Within a year I'd be making a fortune in the West End. ”
Only three months later, I saw the name on the billboard outside the Barcaster Empire Theatre. During this time, there was no news from Jennings. He ran away with Socrates and disappeared without a trace.
Now he's back, and that's what the ad says:
George Jennings
And his magic dog
Socrates
I walked into the theater and bought a front seat ticket. A few traveling comedians entertained themselves for a while, then a group of tired acrobats performed, and the third number was by Jennings. To the accompaniment of a blast of trumpets, Jennings strode onto the stage, followed by Socrates.
He has grown much bigger than before, and his shaggy tawny hair is thick and thick. His head is more coordinated with his body, but he is still very big. He's closer to a St. Bernard than any dog ??I can think of, but he's not like a St. Bernard, he's just Socrates, with those eyes that amazed me that afternoon four months ago. His piercing blue eyes;
Jennings actually taught him a trick. After reaching the center of the stage, Socrates stood up on his hind legs, turned to the footlights discreetly, and saluted the audience. He effortlessly swung up and down on the high swing left by the acrobats; he held the square letters to the front with his teeth and slowly spelled out Yu to answer the question posed by Jennings. He performed the routines performed by ordinary circus dogs, but he performed with such a confidence that the audience held their breath and watched that he overshadowed other circus dogs. When he walked off the stage solemnly after the performance, bursts of cheers erupted in the silent theater. They came back to thank the hysterical audience 6 times. Each time, Socrates thanked the hysterical audience with the utmost solemnity. After they thanked me for the last time, I walked out of the theater.
I bribed the janitor and found out where Jennings lived: he didn't live with other jugglers, he lived alone in the big hotel. In the evening I walked to the hotel and gave my name. A few minutes later, the sloppy little servant boy came back.
"Mr. Jennings tells you to go up there," he said to me, telling me the floors and room number.
I knocked on the door and heard Jennings shouting: "Come in!"
He seemed much more respectable than the Jennings I knew before, but he still brought With that deceitful look. He was sitting in front of the fireplace, wearing a gorgeous blue and gold pajamas. When I walked into the room, he was pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle. I noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.
"Ouch!" he said inarticulately, "Isn't this Professor? It's always nice to see old friends. Please have a drink, Professor!"
He Pour me a glass of whiskey.
"Here's to you, Professor!" he said, "Here's to Socrates, the magic dog!"
"Can I see Socrates?" I asked.
He bared his teeth and smiled. "Of course. Socrates!"
The door opened, and Socrates walked in, with a dignified manner, a smart face with a broad forehead, and a pair of shining blue eyes. Beside Jennings' chair, he lay down quietly, his head curled up in his claws.
"Did you see our show?" Jennings asked.
I nodded.
"Amazing, isn't it? This is just the beginning, the excitement is yet to come! Socrates, try your new tricks!"
Socrates jumped up He got up and walked out of the room; after a while, he held a rope between his teeth and dragged a small wooden cart back. The small wooden cart had a simple pedal device in front, fixed on the front wheels. Socrates jumped on the car, stepped on the pedals with his paws, and turned around the room. When he reached the wall, the car suddenly turned. I noticed that Socrates' tail acted like a rudder. Socrates drove the car back and turned again to the wall, but this time he failed to leave enough space. The car hit the side wall and Socrates fell off the car.
Zhannings jumped up and pulled the whip from the wall with a swipe; Socrates curled up, and Zhannings whipped him hard, and kept cursing in his mouth.
I stepped over to Jennings, twisted with him, and finally took the whip off. Jennings fell on the chair exhausted and dragged the bottle over.
I shouted angrily: "You're crazy! Is this how you train him?"
He looked up from the wine glass. "Yes," he said, "This is my training method. The dog must learn to respect its owner. Hey, it only recognizes the whip. Socrates!"
He raised the whip Socrates immediately curled up with the whip in his hand.
"I trained him well," he continued, "and before long he will become the best circus dog in the world."
"Listen , Jennings," I said, "I am not a rich man, but I have many friends who are willing to lend me money. I came up with a thousand pounds to buy Socrates."
He said sarcastically: "You also want to make a fortune from Socrates' performance!"
"I promise that if you sell Socrates to me, I will never let him engage in this business again. ”
He laughed. "If I sell it, I don't give a damn what happens to it in the future! But, let me tell you, I won't sell it unless you pay two thousand pounds, not even a penny less! This dog is a money tree "Here!"
"Have you made up your mind?" I asked.
He stood up. "Let me show you the preview program for our next contract," he said. "It's already up for grabs! Wait, it's in the next room."
He staggered out. . I looked down at Socrates, carefully observing the behaviors that had amazed me as a puppy. I called softly:
"Socrates!"
He pricked up his ears. I couldn't control myself, but I had made up my mind. I said to him softly:
"Socrates, come back with me as soon as you have a chance to escape. Come and smell me 's coat."
I pulled up my sleeves, and Socrates sniffed, wagging his furry tail slowly. Jennings came back with the program, and I made some excuses and left.
I walked back, which was only about two or three miles away. The more I thought about it, the more absurd it became that Socrates could understand me. It was just an absurd thought without thinking!
After Jennings disappeared, I moved and have been living with a very kind couple for the past few months. I brought Kusi from home, she was a fine hunting dog that I kept myself, and the couple were very fond of her; and when I walked slowly up the garden path, she was sitting on the inner window sill, Tao Mrs. Bee heard her howl and came out quickly to open the door for me. Tess came bounding to meet me, and raised her soft paws toward my chest. I patted her gently and stroked her to calm her down. After freshening up, I sat down and drank a cup of tea comfortably.
Two or three hours later, when Mr. and Mrs. Toby had gone to bed, I was sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book, when I suddenly heard a call at the door.
I shouted: "Who?"
This time, the voice was a little clearer, but it was still vague, as if a person with an articulation problem was speaking. I heard:
"Socrates."
I hurriedly opened the door. Socrates stood there, his eyes bright and his tail straight up. I looked at the hazy place behind him.
"Who brought you here, man!" I asked.
Socrates raised his head, his mouth was wide and his white teeth were shining.
He said vaguely but easily understandable: "I can tell."
I led him into the house and put aside all my doubts. Sitting in Mr. and Mrs. Toby's cozy room, in front of the roaring fire, the scene seemed even more unbelievable. I murmured to myself: "I don't believe it."
Socrates sat on the carpet. "It's true," he said.
"Does Jennings know?" I asked.
“I don’t know.
I didn’t tell anyone else, otherwise, it would be a show again. "
"But Jennings knows you can understand, right? ”
“Yes, this cannot be covered up. Jennings whipped me until I learned, and I learned faster that way. "
His low voice became easier to understand the more I listened to it. A few minutes later, it was no surprise that I was sitting in front of the fireplace talking to a half-grown rough-haired dog. He told me that he How to learn human speech by yourself and force his voice to adapt to various complex pronunciations. After repeated trials, it finally worked.
"But, Socrates, you are not even 4 months old!" "I said in surprise.
He frowned. "Yes, it's strange. For me, everything is so fast. Big...old..."
"Mature," I added. "Of course, there have been talking dogs before, but they were just for gimmicks and didn't really have brains. Socrates, do you know what an unusual dog you are? "
There seemed to be a smile on the wide face. "How could you not know? ’ he said, ‘all the other dogs—all fools like that! Why am I like this, Professor? ”
I told him about his birth, and he seemed to accept the concept of the X variant easily; I think it is always easy for a person to believe the fact of his birth. He did not at all Having no memory of his first month, he was very sad when I told him about the fate of his siblings.
"Perhaps it would be better not to know," he said. “It makes me feel really sad to think that I actually have brothers and sisters like me. I don’t want to be a circus dog forever.
"Socrates, you don't have to be a circus dog," I said. "Listen, we can run away. I have friends who will help me. You can never see me again." Jennings! "
"No, no," he said, "Jennings is the master, I must go back. "
"But, he will hit you! He might run out for you and have to give you a good beating!
"He will," he said, "but it's worth the beating just to see you." "
"Listen, Socrates," I said, "Zhannings is not your master; if you have intelligence, you should not be a slave. Besides, your intelligence greatly exceeds that of Zhannings." Damn it! "
The big head shook. "It is like this for people, but it is different for dogs. ”
“You are not Jennings’s dog at all! "I said. I told him all the tricks played by Jennings: how he sold him to me and then turned his back on it. Socrates was still indifferent.
I know that These are useless. Although Socrates is an extremely smart dog, as he said, he is still a dog. The instinct that has been subordinate to his master for thousands of years does not mean that he is smart and rational. Eliminate.
“Willing to come here to learn. I'll sneak out often. "
" Change the whip every time you go back? "
Socrates trembled all over. "Yes," he said, "it's worth it. It's worth getting beat up to learn something. Do you teach? "
"I will try my best," I promised.
"Can you make more mutant dogs like me? "
I really don't want to say it. "No, Socrates. You got it by luck, completely by accident. X-ray can only create monsters, and it’s only once in a thousand years that one like you comes out. It can also be said to be unique! "
The furry tail drooped pitifully. He held his head with his paws for a while, then stood up on four feet, alone and without any friends.
"Yes. Gone, will come again soon. "
I led him out and watched him jump and disappear into the darkness. When I returned to the warm room with the fire, I thought of Socrates running back in the dark to be whipped by Jennings, and I felt angry.
After that, Socrates came often.
He likes to sit in front of me and listen to me read to him. At first, he wanted me to teach him to read by himself, but it was very difficult to turn the pages with his clumsy paws, which discouraged him. I always complied with his request and read to him whatever he wanted.
His desire for knowledge is extremely strong, mainly in non-technical things, which is not surprising, because he will never be able to do even the simplest operational experiments. Philosophy interested him; and as he led me deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of idealism, epistemology, and analogy, I found that my knowledge grew along with his. He also liked poetry, and he wrote a few of them. Although they were relatively rough, they were touching in a way that no human being can achieve. However, he did not let me record them. Now I can only remember a few bits and pieces. OK.
His greatest interest lies in an unexpected field. One day I accidentally mentioned some new developments in the study of the mind, and his attention immediately focused on them. He told me that he could see all kinds of strange things, which he knew were only dimly visible to people when their senses were at their most acute. One night he spent almost a full hour describing to me the motion of a strange spiral thing. He said that something like this was slowly spinning in a corner of my room, sometimes big, sometimes small, and would suddenly jump up. I walked to the place he pointed out to me and touched around in the air with my hands for a while.
“I can still hear,” he told me, “the sound is high-pitched and very nice.”
“Some people feel different from ordinary people, and they also say they see Lived something like that,” I said.
He asked me to read him every paranormal book I could find, looking for explanations for the strange things around him, but these explanations irritated him.
“So many fools!” he said wearily as we put down a book that painstakingly pieced together poltergeists and angels. "They can't see, they just want to see. They think they can see."
The Tobes were curious about my new habit of reading loudly alone in my room. Once I saw them staring suspiciously at Socrates, who had hastened to change his speech into a low growl as they entered the house from the garden. But they easily got used to his strange goings-on, and sometimes Socrates came when I was not at home, and they often made a fuss over him.
We are not always studying. Sometimes we like to go for a walk outside. He and Tess disappeared without a trace in a while. Looking for hares, birds, and wild animals that interest dogs in the field, I often see them running in the wind at a long distance in the fields. Socrates especially needs this kind of outdoor activity. Jennings almost never Taking him out, during the time he spent with me sneaking out of Jennings training sessions, he saw no other dogs and no other activities. Tess liked him very much. Sometimes Socrates and I wouldn't let her in in order to read and talk quietly, so she would whine outside the door. Once, I asked Socrates what he thought of bitter silk.
"Assume that dogs are all smart and people are fools. Only you are smart. You can talk to dogs, but don't you like beautiful women, even if they are all fools? ”
However, Socrates did not come for several months, and I learned that Jennings took him to perform in northern England, which was a great success. I saw a message saying that he was going back to Barcaster to perform for two weeks in early November. I waited patiently, and the morning before his performance, Socrates came back.
He still looked as strong as ever, but mentally he was exhausted from this performance. Philosophically, he has always been prone to defeatism, but it is a defeat with a sense of ostentation. He had loved Stapleton's books and made amusing comparisons between himself and Stapleton's divine sheepdog, but he had now become languid, his defeatism boring and depressing. He no longer wanted to read philosophy, and would always lie there quietly and listen to me read poetry.
I know that Jennings was drinking more and more.
Socrates told me that he could only perform alone now; Jennings was always too drunk to get on stage.
Of course, with the drinking came whippings. Socrates' back was covered with scary scars. I tried my best to apply medicine and bandages on him, but at the same time, I became more and more afraid of hearing him say, "It's time to go." I always watched him run back with his tail hanging down, waiting for him. It was Jennings' drunken rage.
I started to persuade him again, begging him to come with me, but this was unwise. The servility developed over many centuries is difficult to eradicate at once, and he always returned to Jennings.
He came one afternoon. It had been raining for several days, and he was dripping wet. He didn't want to dry off in front of the fireplace. The rain stopped a little, so I took my raincoat and took him out for a walk. Tess was jumping next to us. We walked on in silence, even Tess fell silent.
Finally, Socrates finally spoke. "It won't last," he said. "They whipped me again last night. There seemed to be a fire burning in my heart. I almost bit his throat. I will do it soon, and then they will shoot." Kill me."
"They cannot kill you," I said. "Come to me and you will be safe. Come now, Socrates! He, you won’t continue to work for him, right?”
I saw his face revealed not far away, and he screamed and sank again. I turned around and said to Socrates:
"Okay, everything is over! You are free, Socrates, let's go home!"
Zhanning Si's head popped up on the water again, and he faintly shouted for help. Socrates trembled involuntarily, and he shouted for the first and last time:
"Master!"
p>Then he jumped off the bridge and rushed toward his drowning master