苗疆小说网>老人与海手抄报 > 第1章 The Old Mans Hard Life（第2页）
第1章 The Old Mans Hard Life（第2页）
“Ihavemineleftfromtoday。Iputtheminsaltinthebox。”
“Letmegetfourfreshones。”
“One，”theoldmansaid。Hishopeandhisconfidencehadnevergone。Butnowtheywerefresheningaswhenthebreezerises。
“Two，”theboysaid。
“Two，”theoldmanagreed。“Youdidntstealthem?”
“Iwould，”theboysaid。“ButIboughtthese。”
“Thankyou，”theoldmansaid。Hewastoosimpletowonderwhenhehadattainedhumility。Butheknewhehadattaineditandheknewitwasnotdisgracefulanditcarriednolossoftruepride。
“Tomorrowisgoingtobeagooddaywiththiscurrent，”hesaid。
“Whereareyougoing?”theboyasked。
“Farouttocomeinwhenthewindshifts。Iwanttobeoutbeforeitislight。”
“Illtrytogethimtoworkfarout，”theboysaid。“Thenifyouhooksomethingtrulybigwecancometoyouraid。”
“Hedoesnotliketoworktoofarout。”
“No，”theboysaid。“ButIwillseesomethingthathecannotseesuchasabirdworkingandgethimtocomeoutafterdolphin。”
“Arehiseyesthatbad?”
“Heisalmostblind。”
“Itisstrange，”theoldmansaid。“Heneverwentturtle-ing。Thatiswhatkillstheeyes。”
“Butyouwentturtle-ingforyearsofftheMosquitoCoastandyoureyesaregood。
“Iamastrangeoldman。”
“Butareyoustrongenoughnowforatrulybigfish?”
“Ithinkso。Andtherearemanytricks。”
“Letustakethestuffhome，”theboysaid。“SoIcangetthecastnetandgoafterthesardines。”
Theypickedupthegearfromtheboat。Theoldmancarriedthemastonhisshoulderandtheboycarriedthewoodenboxwiththecoiled，hard-braidedbrownlines，thegaffandtheharpoonwithitsshaft。Theboxwiththebaitswasunderthesternoftheskiffalongwiththeclubthatwasusedtosubduethebigfishwhentheywerebroughtalongside。Noonewouldstealfromtheoldmanbutitwasbettertotakethesailandtheheavylineshomeasthedewwasbadforthemand，thoughhewasquitesurenolocalpeoplewouldstealfromhim，theoldmanthoughtthatagaffandaharpoonwereneedlesstemptationstoleaveinaboat。
Theywalkeduptheroadtogethertotheoldmansshackandwentinthroughitsopendoor。Theoldmanleanedthemastwithitswrappedsailagainstthewallandtheboyputtheboxandtheothergearbesideit。Themastwasnearlyaslongastheoneroomoftheshack。Theshackwasmadeofthetoughbud-shieldsoftheroyalpalmwhicharecalledguanoandinittherewasabed，atable，onechair，andaplaceonthedirtfloortocookwithcharcoal。Onthebrownwallsoftheflattened，overlappingleavesofthesturdyfiberedguanotherewasapictureincoloroftheSacredHeartofJesusandanotheroftheVirginofCobre。Thesewererelicsofhiswife。Oncetherehadbeenatintedphotographofhiswifeonthewallbuthehadtakenitdownbecauseitmadehimtoolonelytoseeitanditwasontheshelfinthecornerunderhiscleanshirt。
“Whatdoyouhavetoeat?”theboyasked。
“Apotofyellowricewithfish。Doyouwantsome?”
“No，Iwilleatathome。Doyouwantmetomakethefire?”
“No。Iwillmakeitlateron。OrImayeatthericecold。”
