读小学四年级时,我们镇上来了个摆书摊的老头。老头说话一口外地口音,无论寒暑,总戴着一顶宽边的布帽,每天一大早,便挑着书箱,在我们学校门口铺开摊子,把箱子里的连环画和小说一本一本拿出来放在塑料布上,然后边啃冷馒头边默默盯住学校门口进出的我们。 When I was in the fourth grade of primary school, we had an old man who put a book stand in town. The old man spoke a foreign accent, regardless of the summer and winter, always wearing a wide-brimmed hat, every morning early in the morning, he would pick up the bookcase, shop in front of our school stalls, the box comic books and novels Take it out on the plastic sheeting, and then nibble cold bread while silently staring at the school entrance out of us.