and the little ones got August down upon the wolfskin and asked him for a picture or a story. 孩子们把奥古斯特伏在狼皮上，向他要一张画或一个故事。

For August was the artist of the family. 因为奥古斯特是家里的艺术家。

He had a piece of smooth board that his father had given him, and some sticks of charcoal, and he would draw a hundred things he had seen in the day, wiping each out when the children had seen enough of it. 他有一块父亲给他的光滑的木板，还有几根木炭，他要画一百个他白天见过的东西，等孩子们看够了，他就把每一个都擦掉。

“Tell us a story, August,” they cried, when they had seen charcoal pictures till they were tired. “给我们讲个故事，奥古斯特，”他们看木炭画看累时哀求道。

And August did as he did every night, nearly—looked up at the stove and told the children what he imagined of the adventures of the man who was pictured on the panels. 奥古斯特像他每天晚上做的那样，几乎抬头望着火炉，告诉孩子们他对画在嵌板上的那个人的历险的想象。

The stove was a very grand thing. 火炉是一个非常宏伟的东西。

It was of great height and breadth, with all the shining colors that Hirschvogel had learned to give to his enamels. 它的高度和宽度都很高，有着赫施沃格尔学会给珐琅上的所有闪光的颜色。

There I was the statue of a king at each corner, modeled with much skill. 我在那里的每个角落都有一座国王的雕像，塑造得很有技巧。

August’s grandfather had dug the stove up out of some ruins where he was working, and finding it without a flaw, had taken it home. 奥古斯特的祖父从他工作的一些废墟中挖出了这个炉子，发现它没有任何缺陷，就把它带回家了。

That was now sixty years past, and ever since then the stove had stood in this room, warming his children and his grandchildren. 那是六十年前的事了。从那时起，这个房间里就生起了火炉，供他的孩子们和孙子们取暖。