English Original
It was a fine September night, with a silver moon riding high. They washed up the supper dishes and then took their chairs out onto the porch. "I'll get my fiddle," said the old man, "and play you some of the old tunes."
But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a big double blanket, red with black stripes.
"Now, isn't that a fine blanket!" said the old man, smoothing it over his knees. "And isn't your father a kind man to be giving the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with? It cost something, it did—look at the wool of it! There'll be few blankets there the equal of this one!"
It was like Granddad to be saying that. He was trying to make it easier. He had pretended all along that he wanted to go away to the great brick building—the government place. There he'd be with so many other old fellows, having the best of everything. . . . But Petey hadn't believed Dad would really do it, not until this night when he brought home the blanket.
"Oh, yes, it's a fine blanket," said Petey. He got up and went into the house. He wasn't the kind to cry and, besides, he was too old for that. He'd just gone in to fetch Granddad's fiddle.
The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood up. He tuned up for a minute, and then said, "This is one you'll like to remember."
Petey sat and looked out over the gully. Dad would marry that girl. Yes, that girl who had kissed Petey and fussed over him, saying she'd try to be a good mother to him, and all. . . .
The tune stopped suddenly. Granddad said, "It's a fine girl your father's going to marry. He'll be feeling young again with a pretty wife like that. And what would an old fellow like me be doing around their house, getting in the way? An old nuisance, what with my talks of aches and pains. It's best that I go away, like I'm doing. One more tune or two, and then we'll be going to sleep. I'll pack up my blanket in the morning."
They didn't hear the two people coming down the path. Dad had one arm around the girl, whose bright face was like a doll's. But they heard her when she laughed, right close by the porch. Dad didn't say anything, but the girl came forward and spoke to Granddad prettily: "I won't be here when you leave in the morning, so I came over to say good-bye."
"It's kind of you," said Granddad, with his eyes cast down. Then, seeing the blanket at his feet, he stooped to pick it up. "And will you look at this," he said. "The fine blanket my son has given me to go away with."
"Yes," she said. "It's a fine blanket." She felt the wool and repeated in surprise, "A fine blanket—I'll say it is!" She turned to Dad and said to him coldly, "That blanket really cost something."
Dad cleared his throat and said, "I wanted him to have the best. . . ."
"It's double, too," she said, as if accusing Dad.
"Yes," said Granddad, "it's double—a fine blanket for an old fellow to be going away with."
The boy went suddenly into the house. He was looking for something. He could hear that girl scolding Dad. She realized how much of Dad's money—her money, really—had gone for the blanket. Dad became angry in his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away in a huff.
As Petey came out, she turned and called back, "All the same, he doesn't need a double blanket!" And she ran off up the path.
Dad was looking after her as if he wasn't sure what he ought to do.
"Oh, she's right," Petey said. "Here, Dad"—and he held out a pair of scissors. "Cut the blanket in two."
Both of them stared at the boy, startled. "Cut it in two, I tell you, Dad!" he cried out. "And keep the other half."
"That's not a bad idea," said Granddad gently. "I don't need so much of a blanket."
"Yes," the boy said harshly, "a single blanket's enough for an old man when he's sent away. We'll save the other half, Dad. It'll come in handy later."
"Now what do you mean by that?" asked Dad.
"I mean," said the boy slowly, "that I'll give it to you, Dad— when you're old and I'm sending you—away."
There was a silence. Then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before him, not speaking. But Granddad understood. He put out a hand and laid it on Dad's shoulder. And he heard Granddad whisper, "It's all right, son. I knew you didn't mean it. . . ." And then Petey cried.
But it didn't matter—because they were all crying together.
中文翻译
那是一个美好的九月夜晚，银色的月亮高悬。他们洗好晚餐的盘子，然后把椅子搬到门廊上。"我去拿我的小提琴，"老人说，"给你拉几首老曲子。"
但他拿出来的不是小提琴，而是那条毯子。那是一床很大的双人毛毯，红底黑条纹。
"瞧，这毯子多好啊！"老人说着，把它在膝盖上抚平。"你父亲真是个好人，给要离开的老头子这样一条毯子。这可不便宜，真的——看看这羊毛！那里的毯子很少有能和这条相比的！"
爷爷这么说很符合他的性格。他是在试图让事情显得轻松些。他一直假装自己想去那个大砖楼——政府办的地方。在那里，他会和许多其他老人在一起，享受最好的一切……但佩蒂一直不相信爸爸真的会这么做，直到今晚他把毯子带回家。
"哦，是的，是条好毯子，"佩蒂说。他站起身走进屋里。他不是那种爱哭的人，而且，他也过了爱哭的年纪了。他只是进去拿爷爷的小提琴。
老人拿起小提琴站起来时，毯子滑落到了地板上。他调了一会儿音，然后说："这首曲子你会想记住的。"
佩蒂坐着，望向远处的山谷。爸爸要娶那个女孩了。是的，就是那个吻过佩蒂、对他过分热情，说会努力做个好母亲给他的女孩……
曲子突然停了。爷爷说："你父亲要娶的是个好姑娘。有那样一个漂亮的妻子，他会再次感到年轻的。像我这样的老头子在他们家里晃悠，碍手碍脚的，算什么呢？一个老讨厌鬼，整天念叨着这儿疼那儿痛的。我这样离开是最好的。再拉一两首曲子，然后我们就去睡觉。我早上会把毯子打包好。"
他们没有听到那两个人沿着小路走来。爸爸一只胳膊搂着那个女孩，她明艳的脸庞像个洋娃娃。但当她在门廊边很近的地方笑起来时，他们听到了。爸爸什么也没说，但女孩走上前，乖巧地对爷爷说："您明早离开时我不在，所以我现在过来道个别。"
"你真好，"爷爷说着，垂下了眼睛。然后，看到脚边的毯子，他弯腰捡了起来。"你看看这个，"他说，"我儿子给我这条好毯子让我带着走。"
"是的，"她说，"是条好毯子。"她摸了摸羊毛，惊讶地重复道："一条好毯子——我得说确实是！"她转向爸爸，冷冷地对他说："这毯子可真花了不少钱。"
爸爸清了清嗓子，说："我想让他用最好的……"
"而且还是双人的，"她说，仿佛在指责爸爸。
"是的，"爷爷说，"是双人的——一条给要离开的老头子的好毯子。"
男孩突然跑进屋里。他在找什么东西。他能听到那个女孩在责骂爸爸。她意识到爸爸的钱——其实也是她的钱——有多少花在了这条毯子上。爸爸以他那种慢吞吞的方式生气了。而现在，她突然气冲冲地要走了。
当佩蒂出来时，她转过身喊道："不管怎样，他不需要一条双人毛毯！"然后她沿着小路跑掉了。
爸爸望着她的背影，好像不确定自己该做什么。
"哦，她说得对，"佩蒂说。"给，爸爸"——他递出一把剪刀——"把毯子剪成两半。"
两个人都盯着男孩，吃了一惊。"把它剪成两半，我告诉你，爸爸！"他喊道。"另一半留着。"
"这主意不坏，"爷爷温和地说。"我不需要这么大一条毯子。"
"是的，"男孩尖刻地说，"一个被送走的老人，一条单人毯子足够了。我们把另一半留着，爸爸。以后会用得着的。"
"你这话是什么意思？"爸爸问道。
"我的意思是，"男孩慢慢地说，"我会把它给你，爸爸——等你老了，我送你走的时候。"
一阵沉默。然后爸爸走到爷爷面前，站在他跟前，没有说话。但爷爷明白了。他伸出一只手，搭在爸爸的肩膀上。他听到爷爷低声说："没关系，儿子。我知道你不是有意的……"然后佩蒂哭了。
但这没关系——因为他们都一起哭了。