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After supper Dorothea drew her spinning-wheel near to the stove and set it whirring, and the little ones got August down upon the wolfskin and asked him for a picture or a story. For August was the artist of the family. He had a piece of smooth board that his father had given him, and some sticks of charcoal, and he would draw a hundred things he had seen in the day, wiping each out when the children had seen enough of it.
晚飯后，多蘿西婭把紡車拉到爐邊，讓它旋轉起來，孩子們把奧古斯特伏在狼皮上，向他要一張畫或一個故事。因為奧古斯特是家里的藝術家。他有一塊父親給他的光滑的木板，還有幾根木炭，他要畫一百個他白天見過的東西，等孩子們看夠了，他就把每一個都擦掉。
“Tell us a story, August,” they cried, when they had seen charcoal pictures till they were tired. And August did as he did every night, nearly—looked up at the stove and told the children what he imagined of the adventures of the man who was pictured on the panels.
“給我們講個故事，奧古斯特，”他們看木炭畫看累時哀求道。奧古斯特像他每天晚上做的那樣，幾乎抬頭望著火爐，告訴孩子們他對畫在嵌板上的那個人的歷險的想象。
The stove was a very grand thing. It was of great height and breadth, with all the shining colors that Hirschvogel had learned to give to his enamels. There I was the statue of a king at each corner, modeled with much skill. August’s grandfather had dug the stove up out of some ruins where he was working, and finding it without a flaw, had taken it home. That was now sixty years past, and ever since then the stove had stood in this room, warming his children and his grandchildren.
火爐是一個非常宏偉的東西。它的高度和寬度都很高，有著赫施沃格爾學會給琺瑯上的所有閃光的顏色。我在那里的每個角落都有一座國王的雕像，塑造得很有技巧。奧古斯特的祖父從他工作的一些廢墟中挖出了這個爐子，發現它沒有任何缺陷，就把它帶回家了。那是六十年前的事了。從那時起，這個房間里就生起了火爐，供他的孩子們和孫子們取暖。
