Even when my uncle was busy with the flight of steps leading to the new house he didn't take a fancy to the ugly stone. One year when a mason came by, we asked him to snake us a stone mill with it. As my grandma put it: "Why net take this one, so you worst have to fetch one from afar." But the arson took a look and shook his head; he wouldn't take it for it was of too fine a quality.
它不像汉白玉那样的细腻,可以凿下刻字雕花,也不像大青石那样的光滑,可以供来院纱捶布;它静静地卧在那里,院边的槐荫没有庇孤它,花儿也不再在它身边生长。荒草便繁衍出来,枝蔓上下,慢慢地,竟锈上了绿苔、黑斑。我们这些做孩子的,也讨庆起它来,曾合伙要搬走它,但力气又不足;虽时时咒骂它,嫌弃它,也无可奈何,只好任它留在那里去了。
It was not like a fine piece of white marble on which words or flowers could be carved, nor like a smooth big bluish stone people used to wash their clothes on. The stone just lay there in silence, enjoying no shading front the pagoda trees by the yard, nor flowers growing around it. As a result weeds multiplied and stretched ail over it, their stems and tendrils gradually covered with dark green spots of moss. We children began to dislike the stone too, and would have taken it away if we had been strong enough; all we could do for the present was to leave it alone, despite our disgust or even curses.
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