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Dick could see nothing, for the mistiness of his eyes. But he could hear a cracked, tired voice, filled with great pride, saying, “Round steak, maybe, and some rice and potatoes.”
迪克眼前一片模糊，什么也看不見。但是他能聽見一個干裂的、疲憊的聲音，充滿自豪地說著，“也許有圓牛排，還有一些米飯和土豆。”
DICK BUYS A THANKSGIVING DINNER
迪克購買感恩節晚餐
“What are you buying a turkey for?” Mr. Holman, the fat grocer, asked in surprise when Dick made his purchase later in the day.
“你買火雞干什么？”那天晚上迪克購買火雞時時，胖胖的雜貨商霍爾曼先生驚訝地問。
“Oh—I’m just getting one—for somebody,” Dick explained lamely. “And—I want some cranberries, too — and a pumpkin, a big one.”
迪克磕磕絆絆地解釋道，“哦，我只是想給某人買一只，”“我還想要一些小紅莓，一個南瓜，要大的。”
Mrs. Attson lived in a ramshackle little house, unpainted, with a low, sloping roof, down near the railroad tracks.Dick had hauled the washing down there once or twice when his mother did not wish the work done at their home. He trudged down that way now through the deep snow in the early dusk of that Wednesday afternoon, with a heavily loaded basket on his arm.
艾特森太太住在一所破舊的小房子里，房子沒有上過漆、屋頂低矮傾斜，就在鐵軌邊上。迪克把洗好的衣服拖到那里一兩次，因為他母親不希望在家里干活。在那個星期三下午的黃昏，他挽著一個沉重的籃子，在深雪中跋涉而下。
It had been snowing all day. There must be a foot and a half or two feet of snow on the ground, a record-breaker for Forestville.Dick didn’t mind—so much. “I probably couldn’t walk on snowshoes if I had them,” he said to himself.
雪下了一整天。地面上一定有一英尺半或兩英尺厚的雪，打破了森林小鎮的紀錄。迪克沒那么在意。他自言自語道：“如果我穿著雪鞋的話，我可能就走不動了。”。
