Her kitchen was a miracle of clean brightness. Everything was always in its place, and no where could you see a speck of dust. Cleanliness, indeed, was a mania with her. I saw a neat little old woman, with cheeks like apples, toiling away from morning to night, through the long years, to keep her house trim and spruce. His father was a spare old man, his hands gnarled after the work of a lifetime, silent and upright; in the evening he read the paper aloud, while his wife and daughter (now married to the captain of a fishing smack), unwilling to lose a moment, bent over their sewing. Nothing ever happened in that little town, left behind by the advance of civilisation, and one year followed the next till death came, like a friend, to give rest to those who had laboured so diligently.
廚房收拾得干干凈凈、锃光瓦亮，簡直是個奇跡。鍋碗瓢盆都放得有條不紊，任何地方也找不出一星灰塵。說實在的，他母親愛好清潔簡直有些過頭了。我仿佛看到了一個干凈利落的小老太太，生著紅里透白的面頰，從早到晚手腳不停閑，終生劬勞，把屋子收拾得井井有條，一塵不染。施特略夫的父親是個瘦削的老人，因為終生勞動，兩手骨節扭結，不言不語，誠實耿直。晚飯后他大聲讀著報紙，妻子和女兒（現在已經嫁給一個小漁船船長了）珍惜時間，埋頭做針線活。文明日新月異，這個小城卻好象被拋在后面，永遠也不會發生什么事情，如此年復一年，直到死亡最后來臨，象個老友似地給那些勤苦勞動一生的人帶來永久的安息。
My father wished me to become a carpenter like himself. For five generations we've carried on the same trade, from father to son. Perhaps that is the wisdom of life, to tread in your father's steps, and look neither to the right nor to the left. When I was a little boy I said I would marry the daughter of the harness-maker who lived next door. She was a little girl with blue eyes and a flaxen pigtail. She would have kept my house like a new pin, and I should have had a son to carry on the business after me.
“我父親希望我象他一樣做個木匠。我們家五代人都是干的這個行業，總是父一代子一代地傳下去。也許這就是生活的智慧——永遠踩著父親的腳印走下去，既不左顧也不右盼。小的時候我對別人說我要同隔壁一家做馬具人家的女兒結婚。她是一個藍眼睛的小女孩，亞麻色的頭發梳著一根小辮。要是同這個人結了婚，她也會把我的家收拾得井井有條，還會給我生個孩子接替我的行業。”
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