我在院门口晃悠,想着要不要去街对面找维娜玩,她是我五年级最好的朋友。这时,我看见从街上走来一个流浪汉。“你好,小姑娘,”他说,“你妈妈在家吗?”我点点头,把门打开让他进了院子。经济大萧条时期,有许多流浪汉从河那边的游民营来过我家,他看起来跟他们一样,蓬乱的头发从那顶不像样的帽子下露了出来,破破烂烂的衬衣和裤子显然被雨水淋湿过,还穿着睡过觉。他浑身散发着一种篝火烧 I swing in front of the courtyard, thinking about going across the street to find Vina play, she is my fifth grade best friend. At this moment, I saw a tramp coming from the street. “Hello, little girl,” he said, “is your mother at home?” I nodded and opened the door to let him into the yard. During the Great Depression, many tramps came across my home from camps on the other side of the river. He looked as if they were disheveled, with their disheveled hats exposed from the top of his hat, worn shirts and trousers Wet by the rain, but also wearing sleep over. He was exuding a bonfire burning over