you affect to slight it, as you would slight a boy who presumed on your acquaintance, but whom you have no desire to know. 你假装不去想那满心惊悚，好像路上走来个孩子，与你套近乎说是你的熟人，而你压根不动声色。

　　Yet your mother—how strange it is!—has no fears of such dark fancies. 可是，你的妈妈，看来不可思议！你好像丝毫没有黑暗虚妄的恐惧。

　　Even now, as you stand beside her, and as the twilight deepens in the room, 即便现在，暮色使房间更为昏暗，你伫立她的身边，

　　her low, silvery voice is stealing upon your ear, telling you that she can not be long with you; 她那银铃般声音轻轻在你耳边响起，她告诉你，不能长久与你生活一起，

　　—that the time is coming, when you must be guided by your own judgment, and struggle with the world unaided by the friends of your boyhood. 离别的时刻已经来临，今后闯荡社会只能依靠你自己判断，独自一人在这个世界打拼，别再指望孩提时代所有的外来肩膀。

　　There is a little pride, and a great deal more of anxiety, in your thoughts now, 你目光坚毅地看着家里壁炉里恍惚光焰，

　　as you look steadfastly into the home blaze, while those delicate fingers, so tender of your happiness, play with the locks upon your brow. 思绪万千的心里或许存有些许骄傲，更多的则是忧虑。那些精致手指打开了你眉间心结，你的幸福刹那间变得旖旎温柔。

　　To struggle with the world,—that is a proud thing; to struggle alone,—there lies the doubt! 在世打拼，毕竟引以为豪；独自一人打拼，困惑不安郁闷！

　　Then crowds in swift upon the calm of boyhood the first anxious thought of youth. 青春时代第一次忧心忡忡，就这样急遽闯入童年的静穆安宁。

　　The hands of the old clock upon the mantel that ticked off the hours when Charlie sighed and when Charlie died, draw on toward midnight. 查理在叹息，查理已死去，壁炉架上古老壁钟仍然滴答不停，时针现在指向午夜。

　　The shadows that the fireflame makes grow dimmer and dimmer. 炉火阴影变得愈加黯淡，模糊不清。

　　And thus it is, that Home,—boy home, passes away forever,—like the swaying of a pendulum,—like the fading of a shadow on the floor. 这就是家，男孩的家，永远消逝不再的家，好像钟摆不停摇动中，地面阴影随之一点点烟消云散。