在我看见一名伦敦警察用手指着一个愁眉苦脸的顽皮小孩时,我想起了卫理,还有他把鞭炮从信箱放进我诊所的那段日子。一个十岁大的小男孩为什么跟我过不去?我从来也没伤害过他,可他经常会变换一些恶作剧的花样,或是把垃圾从信箱塞进来,或是把我们花园里种的花拔掉,或是用粉笔在我的汽车上写一些粗话。 As I watched a London police officer pointing her finger at a naughty naughty child, I remembered the Methodist, and the days when he put firecrackers in my clinic from my mailbox. Why did a ten-year-old boy go after me? I never harmed him, but he often changed some prank patterns, either by stuffing it in a letter box or by drawing flowers in our garden Drop, or chalk in my car to write some foul language.