乔伊斯的故事- 第10部分

　　“You　are　*art　and　assiduous　in　studying；　you　can　take　your　brothers　out　of　the　rural　areas　when　you　succeed。”　He　entered　in　the　reveries。　He　likes　to　play　Erhu；　I　h*e　heard　from　my　mother　that　my　father　has　studied　in　an　opera　before。

　　In　a　village　courtyard；　they　played　with　the　Erhu；　three…stringed　plucked　instrument；　and　drum；　they　played　and　song　a　drama　which　called　Zhuge　Liang　Pays　a　Mourning　Call。　I　h*e　not　seen　the　play　before；　I　only　listen　to　my　father　singing　at　home　when　he　alone　in　the　kitchen　and　his　voice　play　to　an　extreme；　like　in　the　theater。　He　always　did　everything　in　a　thorough　manner；　just　like　the　hope　of　me　to　learn　more　and　more　abilities。　And　I　learn　in　this　kind　of　family　and　school。

　　The　cement　and　steel　of　flag　bee　cold　in　the　evening；　the　shrugged　flagpole　straight　toward　the　sky；　and　has　been　rusting　now。　The　spaces　among　the　three　rows　classroom　were　filled　with　a　large　number　of　footprints；　and　empty　now；　like　a　row　of　old　cadres’　courtyard。　The　copper　bell　hangs　in　the　doorway　tree；　its　steel　bar　who　has　hitched　the　bell　deep　in　the　trunk；　and　the　mark　which　rubbed　by　the　steel　bar　on　the　branch　is　more　clearly　year　by　year。　The　branch　is　very　thick　and　strong；　it　carries　the　village　time。

　　At　6　o’clock　in　the　evening；　the　sun　runs　away　gradually。　The　students　le*e　from　the　campus；　and　that　games　which　played　in　the　water　side　and　holly　side　all　gone。　At　this　moment　I　remember　the　predecessor　of　this　campus；　and　it’s　a　huge　forest。　I　h*e　a　wrong　impression　about　the　forest；　I　always　think　that　tree　farm　will　intimidate　me　as　a　cemetery　in　my　childhood；　especially　in　this　quiet　campus。

　　A　few　footsteps　are　heard。　I　look　at　some　water；　static；　low…lying　in　the　puddles　and　reflecting　the　moonlight。　I　saw　the　bell　in　the　dark　hang　the　branch　likes　a　nut；　it　stays　quiet　and　never　shakes　in　this　moment；　but　the　rings　from　him　disclose　his　thoughts。　I　also　imagine　enjoying　it　with　a　cheerful　solo。

　　My　mother　called　me　in　the　kitchen；　and　I　saw　the　*oke　from　kitchen　chimney；　I　know　the　night　sky　would　fall　and　the　lights　of　the　chimney　would　disappear。　She　burned　the　dry　twigs　which　I　had　picked　up　from　the　south　field　at　afternoon；　and　I　should　saw　an　empty　one　hollowed　by　a　woodpecker　burned　out　the　sparks；　and　the　sparks　climbed　up　the　chimney　*oke　into　the　village’s　night　sky；　and　became　stars；　and　dissolved　clearly　in　some　moment　at　last。

　　After　dinner；　the　night　of　Xi　Ling　town　is　very　beautiful。　The　le*es　shadow　change　with　the　moonlight；　the　shadow　like　a　brush　and　ink　painted　in　each　wall　of　Xi　Ling　town　courtyard；　the　shadow　like　a　picture　in　Chinese　ink　and　build…up　the　poetry　of　town’s　night。

　　A　song　called　“the　Night　Moonlight”　filled　in　our　village；　it’s　a　familiar　melody。　Supposing　a　crow　tragic　caw　on　someone’s　roof；　we　always　worried　about　the　death　of　the　old　man　in　his　family。　Crow　is　a　witch　who　urges　the　life　persistently；　it　rampages　in　the　night　sky；　but　no　old　man　has　left　in　this　summer。　It　is　overflowing　with　new　life；　it　is　a　season　that　we　can　play　unfettered。

　　In　summer　night；　the　fireflies　hide　in　the　grass　and　fly　toward　the　night　sky；　in　this　moment；　all　living　things　of　village　were　flickering；　but　our　partners　should　walk　to　the　end　of　village　to　find　the　fireflies　now。　The　fireflies　fly　at　the　edge　of　village　a　long　time；　not　le*ing；　but　not　close　to　us。

　　The　school　gate　was　closed　by　a　big　lock；　and　we　could　see　the　fireflies　flying　to　the　windows　and　up　to　sky；　or　around　the　flag。　The　moonlight　flowed　from　the　luxuriant　le*es；　and　the　bell　quietly　withdrew　from　the　summer　night；　it　relaxed　to　drip　with　some　bits　of　music；　as　no　one　knocked　on　the　bell；　and　it　shakes　with　the　wind；　or　it　just　was　some　echo　after　school。

　　“Who　knocks　the　bell？”　Roger　asked。　“I　heard　ringing。”

　　We　all　closed　our　ears　to　the　iron　door；　and　h*e　listened　to　the　sound　of　cough　more　clearly　and　nearly。　And　after　a　bulb　lighten　suddenly；　the　old　gatekeeper　walked　out　from　the　office　to　the　well　and　picked　up　a　cup　of　water。　He　turned　off　the　lamp　again。　We　all　ran　toward　the　head　of　road；　the　fireflies　wrapped　in　the　same　lines；　they　flew　from　the　roof　of　classroom　to　sky；　and　few　off　the　most　mysterious　places。书　包　网　txt小说上传分享

Village
Wheat　fields；　the　south　of　our　village；　the　place　of　kite　flying。　Rivers　meander　in　the　spring　fields　like　a　shuttle。　A　unique　wind　blow　gently　in　spring；　and　shakes　the　barley　chase；　I　stood　in　the　field　and　looked　towards　the　south…west；　I　saw　my　high　school　stands　in　the　edge　of　the　township　road　which　connects　several　villages。　I　was　going　to　move　into　the　fields。

　　It　rained　last　night；　and　everything　is　a　new　life　in　this　morning。　Mist　fell　on　the　tree　and　ground；　that　was　a　meeting　of　mist　on　the　tree；　and　if　someone　cries　loudly　then　the　mists　will　run　scared。　The　sun　not　yet　undrawn　his　curtain；　I　was　going　to　roam　into　the　paths；　they　were　moist　and　covered　with　dew。

　　If　you　h*e　a　walk　toward　the　path　full　of　dew；　you　begin　the　first　step　already；　you　should　finish　the　last　steps。　Your　soles　in　the　fields　close　to　the　earth；　close　to　the　growth　of　each　size　of　plants　and　different　animals；　they　looked　forward　to　your　step　in　the　fields；　they　all　were　afraid　of　your　invading。

　　They　looked　at　you　urgently　and　found　you　h*e　taken　a　second　step；　third　step；　and　judged　you　were　a　pedestrian；　not　a　hunter。　They　made　sure　that　there　was　no　danger　that　you　were　passing　on　your　away；　then　they　could　get　the　resumption　of　the　early　morning　quiet。　Wilderness　was　full　the　subtle　tweet。　But　if　you　are　hesitant　to　enter　and　continue　your　steps；　then　you　would　miss　the　forthing　bright　dawn。

　　It　was　my　fourth　step　on　the　ridge　of　field；　the　footprints　was　so　soft；　but　also　left　the　subsidence　on　the　ground。　The　field　wanted　to　show　you　the　hidden　secrets　when　you　saw　the　dew　dripping　from　the　edge　of　Chinese　parasol　trees。　Such　a　big　drop　hit　down　the　ground　he*ily；　jumped　out　of　the　spray！

　　I　met　a　drop　of　dew　dripping　in　the　morning；　sometimes　in　my　hat；　and　sometimes　in　the　shoulders。　This　was　a　s*ing　of　a　cool　night　of　melancholy；　which　cooled　the　warm　of　sleeping。　If　it　dropped　in　your　eyes；　it　must　be　cooler　than　the　Eye　Drops　to　your　soul；　especially　in　the　hazy　spring　of　the　wilderness。

　　I　would　climb　the　second　floor　in　this　morning　for　the　morning　reading。　My　partners　were　behind　me　gradually；　and　drew　close　to　me。　They　run　toward　the　road；　and　the　west　village’s　partners　attend　our　term　from　the　second　intersection。　We　would　meet　in　this　path　together　outside　our　village；　and　met　another　village’s　students；　which　we　had　met　in　the　sample　examination。　We　were　clas*ate　now。

　　I　met　the　excellent　students　and　their　friends；　and　we　bee　playmates　at　last。　We　were　not　clear　about　clear　who　was　a　good　student；　who　was　not；　but　the　teachers　distinguish　with　the　fractional　number　for　us。

　　Ms。　Wei　is　a　petite　female　teacher；　she　married　with　a　big　fat　PE　teacher；　and　we　all　worried　about　her。

　　“Mr。　Yang　is　double　of　Ms。　Wei。”　Roger　has　pared　the　husband　and　wife。

　　“How　about　weight　their　children？”　Roger　was