They all bent over their work and the toddling child began again to bring weeds as gifts to his mother. The mother suddenly caught the child in her arms and kissed him. Then she said:
“Oh! They are like angels singing up there. Angels they are like. Wasn’t God good to them to give them voices like that? Maybe if she heard the larks sing she’d write.But sure there are no larks in big cities.”
And nobody replied. But surely the larks no longer sang happily. Now the sky became immense. The world became immense, an empty dangerous vastness. And the music of the fluttering birds had an eerie lilt to it. So they felt; all except the toddling child, who still came innocently to his mother, bringing little weeds as gifts.
Suddenly the merry cries of children mingled with the triumphant singing of the larks. They all paused and stood erect. Two little girls were running up the lane towards the field. Between the winding fences of the narrow lane they saw the darting white pinafores and the bobbing golden heads of the running girls. They came running, crying out joyously in trilling girlish voices. They were the two remaining children. They were coming home from school.
他们都埋头干活，唯有那个蹒跚学步的孩子又游起草来当礼物送给母亲。母亲猛然一把楼住孩子亲着，说：“啊！它们就像天使在唱歌呢。真像天使啊。瞧上帝有多好，踢给它们这副嗓子。玛丽听到云雀的歌声也许会写信的。可大城市里又哪有云雀啊。”
谁也没搭腔。但是不用说，云雀唱得也不欢了。一下子天空一片苍茫。大地一片苍茫，空旷里透出不祥。飞鸟的歌声听着也有点瘮人。大家都感觉到了，只有那个学步的孩子什么也不懂，还在给母亲送去一把一把的小草。
忽然传来了孩子们的欢叫声，夹杂着云雀的凯歌声。大家放下手里的活，直起了腰。两个小姑娘沿着田垄朝地里跑来。她们奔跑在蜿蜒的篱笆间，在那条窄道上，只见一身白围裙前后飞动，一头金发上下跳动。金发在阳光下闪闪发光。她们边跑边喊，那少女的颤音好不欢快。她们是这家另外两个孩子。她们刚放学回家。
“What brought ye to the field?” the mother cried while they were still afar off.
“A letter,” one cried, as she jumped on to the fence of the field.
The father dropped his shovel and coughed. The mother crossed herself. The eldest son struck the ground with his spade and said:”By the Book.”
“Yes, a letter from Mary, “said the other child, climbing over the fence also and eager to participate equally with her sister in the bringing of the good news. “The postman gave it to us.”
They brought the letter to their father. All crowded round their father by the fence, where there was a little heap of stones. The father sat down, rubbed his fingers carefully on his thighs, and took the letter. They all knelt around his knees. The mother took the infant in her arms. They all became very silent. Their breathing became loud. The father turned the letter round about in his hands many times, examining it.
“It’s her handwriting surely,” he said at length.
“你们来地里干吗？”人还老远呢，母亲就招唤起来。
“来信了，”一个孩子边喊边眺上围田的篱笆。
父亲放下铁锨，干咳着。母亲在胸前画着十字。大儿子一锹戳进地里，说：“敢情的！”
“是啊，是玛丽来的信，”另一个孩子说，一边也爬过篱笆，抢着跟姐姐一起报佳音。“邮递员交给我们的。”
她们把信递给父亲。大蒙围着父亲站在篱笆旁，边上有一小堆石头。父亲坐下来，手指头在大腿上仔细蹭了蹭，接过了信。大家都跪坐在他的膝旁。母亲抱起了小不点儿。大家一声不吭，出气都听得分明。父亲把信翻过来调过去端详了好多遍。
“是她的笔迹，没错，”他终于开了口。
“Yes, yes.” said the eldest son. “Open it, father.”
“In the name of God,” said the mother.
“God send us good news,” the father said, slowly tearing the envelope. Then he paused gain, afraid to look into the envelope. Then one of the girls said:
“Look, look. There’s a cheque in it. I see it against the sun.”
“Eh?” said the mother.
With a rapid movement the father drew out the contents of the envelope. A cheque was within the folded letter. Not a word was spoken until he held up the cheque and said:
“没错，没错，”大儿子说。“拆开，爸爸。”
“看在上帝的份上，”母亲说。
“上帝赐给我们佳音，”父亲说着慢慢撕开信封。
接着他又停住，怕看信封里头。这时候有个姑娘说了：
“看啊，看啊，里头有张支票。冲着日头一照就看见了。”
“嗯？”母亲说。
父亲急忙取出信封里的东西。一张支票夹在叠好的信里。谁也没吱声，只听他捧起支票说。
“Great God, it’s for twenty pounds.”
“My darling,” the mother said, raising her eyes to the sky. “My treasure, I bore you in my womb. My own sweet treasure.”
The children began to laugh, hysterical with joy. The father coughed and said in a low voice:
“There’s a horse for that money to be had, A horse.”
“Oh! Father, “said the eldest son. “A two-year-old and we’ll break it on the strand. I’ll break it, father. Then we’ll have a horse like the people of the village. Isn’t Mary great? Didn’t I say she was waiting until she had money to send? A real horse!”
“And then I can have the ass for myself, daddy,” said the second boy.
And he yelled with joy.
“Be quiet will ye.” said the mother quietly in a sad tone. “Isn’t there a letter from my darling? Won’t ye read me the letter?”
“Here,” said the father. “Take it and read it one of ye. My hand is shaking.”
“天哪，开了二十镑呢。”
“我的好乖乖，”母亲说着抬起两眼仰望天空。
“我的宝贝，我的亲骨肉啊。我亲生的好宝贝啊。”
孩子们大笑起来，欣喜若狂。父亲咳着，一边低声说：
“这回有钱买匹马了。一匹马啊。”
“啊！爸爸。”大儿子说。“买一匹两岁的，咱们牵到海滩上驯去。我来驯它，爸爸。这下咱们就跟村里人一样，也有匹马了。玛丽真能耐，不是吗？我说了吧，她是等攒够了钱才寄信呢！真要有马了！”
“那毛驴就归我了，爸爸，”老二说。
他高兴得直喊。
“你安分点好不好，”母亲说得平静，有点难过。“不是说我的宝贝还写了信吗？给我念念不行吗？”
“在这儿，”父亲说。“你们谁拿去念念。我的手直颤。”
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