又逢“十一”长假好读书。伫立书橱前,信手抽出一本老书,大学时的课本。翻阅之间,老书中竞又掉出一本小书。说“小书”,其实只有薄薄的几页。我的眼睛一下子亮了起来:《活页文选》,这不是小时候常翻常看常念常背的《活页文选》么。以今人的眼光看,手头的《活页文选》,与其说是“书”,莫若说是“字纸”更合适些,原本只有五六页的书,偏偏封面封底都脱落无存了,存着的,只有一两张内囊。尽管如此,我还是如获至宝,欣然复又慨然。我明白,藏于心底的哪根弦被深深地拨动了。 Also every “eleven” good holiday reading. Standing in front of the bookcase, the letter took an old book, college textbooks. Flipping through, the old book Jing Jing fell out of a small book. Say “little book”, in fact, only a few pages thin. My eyes all of a sudden light up: “loose leaf anthology”, this is not often used as a child often read the usual “loose leaf anthologies” it. From the perspective of people today, the “loose leaf anthology” on hand is not so much a “book” as it is called “word paper”, but only five or six pages of the original book, Only one or two inner bladders. Nevertheless, I still treasure, gladly and generously. I understand that the string hidden in my heart is deeply moved.