小时候,我住在老家,老家的门正对着一条窄窄的小巷,一条用石头铺成的巷道。我和小伙伴们没事做,便玩捉迷藏之类的游戏,唱着属于我们的童谣,但终究也没有什么乐趣。只有伴随着“咚咚”拨浪鼓声的“换糖——换糖——”的吆喝声远远传来的时刻,才是我们最高兴的时候。我们推开门,看见货郎正挑着两个大箩筐向我们走来,便开始翻箱倒柜,从床底下或柴灶间找出一两只破拖鞋或者一个压扁的易拉罐,冲出门去,待那人走近了,迫不及待地将搜集来的易拉罐、破拖鞋扔到他的大箩筐中。这时,那人便微笑着放下担子,掀开盖在竹匾上的白纱布,用一把小锤子轻轻敲下一两块糖来,递给我们。我们总是再多要一点,他就小心翼翼地再敲下那么一丁点加给我们。我们呢,就像得了宝贝似的欢乐极了。 When I was a child, I lived in my hometown. The door to my home was facing a narrow alleyway, a stone-paved roadway. My friends and I have nothing to do. They play games such as hide-and-seek and sing our children’s nursery rhymes. But after all, there is no fun. Only the moment when the humming sound of “refreshing sugar—for sugar” with the “rattle” sounds is far away, it is our happiest time. We opened the door and saw that the trader was carrying two large baskets to us. They began to turn over the cabinets and found one or two broken slippers or a squashed can from under the bed or between the stoves. They rushed out of the door and waited until then. As the person approached, he couldn’t wait to throw the collected cans and broken slippers into his basket. At this time, the man smiled and put down his burden, lifted the white gauze on the bamboo raft, and gently tapped a piece of sugar with a small hammer and handed it to us. We always need a little more, and he cautiously knocked down a little bit more and added it to us. We, like a baby, are very happy.