It was a beautiful spring day. The train ran through green fields and hedgerows in blossom, and the air we breathed was perfumed. My father was delighted, and every little while he would put his arm round my neck and talk to me like a friend, as he gazed out over the country.

天气很好，原野一片绿色，杂花满树，火车经过，空气也喷喷地发香。父亲很愉快地望着窗外，一面用手勾住我的头颈，像和朋友谈话似的和我说：

"Poor Crosetti!" he said; "he was the first man, after my father, to love me and do me good. I have never forgotten certain of his good counsels, and also certain sharp reprimands which caused me to return home with a lump in my throat. His hands were large and stubby. I can see him now, as he used to enter the schoolroom, place his cane in a corner and hang his coat on the peg, always with the same gesture. And every day he was in the same humor,--always conscientious, full of good will, and attentive, as though each day he were teaching school for the first time. I remember him as well as though I heard him now when he called to me: 'Bottini! eh, Bottini! The fore and middle fingers on that pen!' He must have changed greatly in these four and forty years."

“啊！克洛赛谛先生！除了我父亲以外，先生是最初爱我和为**心的人了。先生对于我的种种教训，我现在还记着。因了不好的行为受了先生的叱骂，悲哀地回家的光景，我现在还记得。先生的手很粗大，那时先生的神情都像在我眼前哩：他总是静静地进了教室，把手杖放在屋角，把外套挂在衣钩上；无论哪天，态度都是一样，总是很真诚很热心，什么事情都用了全副精神；从开学那天起，一直这样。我现在的耳朵里，还像有先生的话声：‘勃谛尼啊！动谛尼附！要把食指和中指这样地握住笔杆的啊！’已经四十四年了，先生恐怕也和前不同了吧。”

As soon as we reached Condove, we went in search of our old gardener's wife of Chieri, who keeps a stall in an alley. We found her with her boys: she made much of us and gave us news of her husband, who is soon to return from Greece, where he has been working these three years; and of her eldest daughter, who is in the Deaf-mute Institute in Turin. Then she pointed out to us the street which led to the teacher's house,--for every one knows him.

到了孔特甫，我们去探听先生的住所，立刻就探听到了。原来在那里谁都认识先生。

We left the town, and turned into a steep lane flanked by blossoming hedges.

我们出了街市，折向那篱间有花的小路。

My father no longer talked, but appeared entirely absorbed in his reminiscences; and every now and then he smiled, and then shook his head.

父亲默然地似乎在沉思往事，时时微笑着摇着头。

Suddenly he halted and said: "Here he is. I will wager that this is he." Down the lane towards us a little old man with a white beard and a large hat was descending, leaning on a cane. He dragged his feet along, and his hands trembled.

突然，父亲站住了说：“这就是他！一定是他！”我一看，小路的那边来了一个带大麦秆帽的白发老人，正拄了手杖走下坡来，脚似乎有点跷，手在颤抖。

"It is he!" repeated my father, hastening his steps.When we were close to him, we stopped. The old man stopped also and looked at my father. His face was still fresh colored, and his eyes were clear and vivacious.

“果然是他！”父亲反复说，急步走上前去。到了老人面前，老人也站住了向父亲注视。老人面上还有红彩，眼中露着光辉。

"Are you," asked my father, raising his hat, "Vincenzo Crosetti, the schoolmaster?"

父亲脱了帽子：“你就是平善左·克洛赛谛先生吗？”

The old man raised his hat also, and replied: "I am," in a voice that was somewhat tremulous, but full.

老人也把帽子去了，用颤动而粗大的声音回答说；“是的。”

"Well, then," said my father, taking one of his hands, "permit one of your old scholars to shake your hand and to inquire how you are. I have come from Turin to see you."

“啊！那么„„”父亲握了先生的手。“对不起，我是从前受教于先生的学生。先生好吗？今天专从丘林来拜望您的。”