孙老去世了,作协大院里又少了一位好长者,——我是把前年去世的李束为先生也算作这个大院里的人的,虽说他搬出好些年了。 如今称他先生,称他老,只是遵从某种不成文的惯例,孙老还没走远,定会回头笑话这是矫情,一种他最不具备也最不喜欢的作派。“往常叫啥就叫啥,”他准会用他那带着浓厚乡音的文水话,丢下这么一句,扭头再走他的路。 往常叫啥呢?当着他的面,我,不,我们这一茬人,总是叫他孙老师;背后呢,说来不恭得很,就那么直和,筒筒地叫他老孙。有时说顺了嘴,当面也会这么叫。他听了,从不以为忤。 Sun was dead, and there was not a good elder in the compounding compound. - I regarded the case of Mr. Lee, who died the year before, as a man in this compound, though he had been moving out for years. Nowadays, he calls him an old man, only following some unwritten convention. Sun and the old have not gone far, and will go back and joke that this is hypocritical, one of his most unprepared and most disliked factions. “What is it called?” He would have dropped his sentence with his thick Chinese accent, and turned to go his own way. Often called what? In front of him, I, no, we are man, always called his teacher Sun; behind it, it is not very respectful, so straight, . Sometimes, I can say so smoothly. He listened, never thought 忤.