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I grew up on a diversified farm—a number of different types of crops and various kinds of livestock. Lots of livestock. My mother had, what we called, a laying house. It was an old henhouse in which she put a couple of hundred laying hens. Each day we would gather the eggs and when we needed groceries, Mom would take them to Sibilrud’s
2)Cardinal Grocery Store in Hartland and trade the eggs for some groceries. Once in a while, there would even be enough money derived from the eggs that I could get a candy bar.
This was not always the case. I didn’t like chocolate, but for some reason I liked “Cherry Humps” candy bars. Two chocolate-covered cherries connected by even more chocolate and covered with a candy wrapper.
On one such trip to town, I had a particular
3)hankering for a “Cherry Humps”. I was seven years old. We didn’t get to town all that much. Not all the hens were good layers. The poor layers became fryers for Sunday dinner. This caused the flock to shrink in size as time went by. Mom took the eggs to the back of the store and slid them into a
4)chute that led to the person who candled the eggs. Candling was a process in which a person held the egg between his or her eye and a light and could tell by experience whether or not an egg had blood clots, was rotten or was 5)fertile.
We didn’t have a lot of eggs this day, so I followed my mother down the few aisles of Sibilrud’s Grocery with but a small hope for one of my beloved candy bars. I had a handful of “6)gimme” and a mouthful of “7)much obliged”, but it soon became apparent that there would be no “Cherry Humps” for my enjoyment this day.
While my mother was settling up with the
cashier, I did a very stupid thing. I picked up a “Cherry Humps” candy bar from its display case and put it into my pocket. When it came time to put the groceries into our old 8)Pontiac and head back to Mule Lake Farm for another go at the endless chores awaiting us there, I dove into the backseat.
About halfway home, my 9)taste buds could wait no longer. I took that candy bar out of my pocket,
unwrapped it as quietly as I possibly could and bit off one of the two chocolate-covered cherries. I was so engrossed in savoring the exquisite taste of the candy bar that I did not notice my mother eyeing me through the 10)rearview mirror. She hit the brakes and we slid to a stop on the gravel road.
“Where did you get that candy bar?” she asked.
“Sibilrud’s,” I mumbled as I tried swallowing the evidence.
“How did you get a candy bar? You didn’t have any money!”
I didn’t need to give an answer. Mom could see the guilt written all over my face. She turned the old car around and we headed back to Hartland. I hoped that my mother was going back to Sibilrud’s to pay for the candy bar. I was not to be so lucky. She grabbed me by the ear and dragged me out of the car and into Sibilrud’s. Sibilrud’s was owned and operated by Kenny and Shirley Sibilrud, wonderful people. I followed my ear and my mother to where Kenny Sibilrud was standing.
“Kenny,” my mother blurted out. “My son has something he needs to tell you.”
I think Kenny thought it was kind of funny, but my mother didn’t. I had to tell Kenny what I had done. I had stolen a “Cherry Humps” candy bar. I had to tell him that I was very sorry and that I would never do it again. It was the truth; I was very sorry and I would never do it again. This still wasn’t enough for my mother. She drove me into town each afternoon for six days. Once there, I had to go into Sibilrud’s and sweep the floors with a bad broom. The broom was well on its way to becoming bristle-free. Not only that, but if anybody asked me why I was sweeping the floors, I had to tell them why. I learned from this experience that nothing is free in this world, you only get what you want by earning it.
I don’t think they make “Cherry Humps”
candy bars anymore. If they did, they would be safe from me.
我在一个综合农场长大，里面栽种着很多不同种类的农作物，饲养着各种各样的家畜，数不胜数。我母亲有一个我们称之为“产蛋室”的破旧鸡舍，在那里，她养了几百只蛋鸡。每天，我们都会收集鸡蛋。当我们需要食品杂货时，母亲就会把鸡蛋拿到哈特兰镇的西比瑞德中心杂货店去换一些回来。偶尔，鸡蛋钱还有些余钱足够我买一块糖果棒。
这种事是不常有的。我不喜欢巧克力，但不知道为什么我很喜欢“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒——两颗樱桃外面沾满巧克力酱，再以厚厚的巧克力粘在一起，外面还包着糖纸。
有次到镇上用鸡蛋换杂货，我特别想吃一块“樱桃驼峰”。那时我七岁。我们并不常到镇上去，不是每只母鸡都会下很多蛋。下蛋少的母鸡就会成为周日晚餐中的炸鸡。如此一来，鸡的数量就越来越少。母亲把鸡蛋拿到店后面，让它们顺着一个斜槽滑下去，斜槽的另一端有人负责照鸡蛋。所谓照鸡蛋就是一个人把鸡蛋置于他或她的视线和灯光之间检查，凭经验能看出鸡蛋里有没有血块，是不是坏掉的，或者是否已受精。
我们那天拿去的鸡蛋并不是很多，所以跟着母亲走过西比瑞德杂货店寥寥无几的货架通道时，我心知这次要得到心爱的糖果棒是机会渺茫了。母亲指示我拿货品，听到她说“给我”这个那个的，还对我满口“谢谢”。但很快我就知道，显然这天我是无福享受“樱桃驼峰”了。
母亲在收银员那里结帐的时候，我做了一件非常愚蠢的事情。我从杂货店的架子上拿了一块“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒，把它放进我的口袋里。等到把食品杂货放进我们那辆破旧的庞蒂克，开车回去骡湖农场继续那些等待着我们的无尽杂活时，我钻进了后座里。
车开到半路，我的味蕾再也等不下去了。我把那糖果棒从口袋里掏出来，尽可能轻手轻脚地撕开糖纸，咬下其中一颗裹着巧克力的樱桃。我太全神贯注地品味着糖果棒的美妙口味了，根本没有留意到母亲正从后视镜里盯着我看。她踩了刹车，车子在那段碎石路上慢慢滑行停了下来。
“你那块糖果棒是从哪儿来的？”她问道。
“西比瑞德杂货店。”我边咕哝着，边试图吞下罪证。
“怎么得来的？你根本没钱买！”
我不需要作任何回答。母亲能从我那张写满内疚的脸上看出来。她把破旧的车子掉头，开回哈特兰镇。我本希望母亲是开回去西比瑞德杂货店给那糖果棒付钱的，可是我没那么幸运。她揪着我的耳朵，把我拖出车，拖进西比瑞德杂货店。这间杂货店由肯尼·西比瑞德和雪莉·西比瑞德经营和所有，他们都很友善。我被母亲揪着耳朵带到肯
尼·西比瑞德跟前。
“肯尼，”我母亲张口就说，“我儿子有话要对你说。”
我想肯尼当时会觉得场面很有趣，但我母亲可不这么认为。我不得不告诉肯尼我所做的事——我偷了一块“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒。我不得不对他说我很抱歉，并保证以后再也不会这样做了。这是事实。我很抱歉，而且保证再也不会做那样的事情了。然而这些对于我母亲来说还不够。她接下来连续六天每天下午都把我载到镇上。一到那里，我就得走进西比瑞德杂货店，用一把不好使的扫帚扫地。那扫帚头都快被磨秃了。不仅如此，只要有人问我为什么在扫地，我都得告诉他们原因。我从这次经历体会到，天下没有免费的午餐，你想要得到任何东西，都必须自己去赚取。
我想他们不再做“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒了。就算他们还在做，也大可对我放心。
2)Cardinal Grocery Store in Hartland and trade the eggs for some groceries. Once in a while, there would even be enough money derived from the eggs that I could get a candy bar.
This was not always the case. I didn’t like chocolate, but for some reason I liked “Cherry Humps” candy bars. Two chocolate-covered cherries connected by even more chocolate and covered with a candy wrapper.
On one such trip to town, I had a particular
3)hankering for a “Cherry Humps”. I was seven years old. We didn’t get to town all that much. Not all the hens were good layers. The poor layers became fryers for Sunday dinner. This caused the flock to shrink in size as time went by. Mom took the eggs to the back of the store and slid them into a
4)chute that led to the person who candled the eggs. Candling was a process in which a person held the egg between his or her eye and a light and could tell by experience whether or not an egg had blood clots, was rotten or was 5)fertile.
We didn’t have a lot of eggs this day, so I followed my mother down the few aisles of Sibilrud’s Grocery with but a small hope for one of my beloved candy bars. I had a handful of “6)gimme” and a mouthful of “7)much obliged”, but it soon became apparent that there would be no “Cherry Humps” for my enjoyment this day.
While my mother was settling up with the
cashier, I did a very stupid thing. I picked up a “Cherry Humps” candy bar from its display case and put it into my pocket. When it came time to put the groceries into our old 8)Pontiac and head back to Mule Lake Farm for another go at the endless chores awaiting us there, I dove into the backseat.
About halfway home, my 9)taste buds could wait no longer. I took that candy bar out of my pocket,
unwrapped it as quietly as I possibly could and bit off one of the two chocolate-covered cherries. I was so engrossed in savoring the exquisite taste of the candy bar that I did not notice my mother eyeing me through the 10)rearview mirror. She hit the brakes and we slid to a stop on the gravel road.
“Where did you get that candy bar?” she asked.
“Sibilrud’s,” I mumbled as I tried swallowing the evidence.
“How did you get a candy bar? You didn’t have any money!”
I didn’t need to give an answer. Mom could see the guilt written all over my face. She turned the old car around and we headed back to Hartland. I hoped that my mother was going back to Sibilrud’s to pay for the candy bar. I was not to be so lucky. She grabbed me by the ear and dragged me out of the car and into Sibilrud’s. Sibilrud’s was owned and operated by Kenny and Shirley Sibilrud, wonderful people. I followed my ear and my mother to where Kenny Sibilrud was standing.
“Kenny,” my mother blurted out. “My son has something he needs to tell you.”
I think Kenny thought it was kind of funny, but my mother didn’t. I had to tell Kenny what I had done. I had stolen a “Cherry Humps” candy bar. I had to tell him that I was very sorry and that I would never do it again. It was the truth; I was very sorry and I would never do it again. This still wasn’t enough for my mother. She drove me into town each afternoon for six days. Once there, I had to go into Sibilrud’s and sweep the floors with a bad broom. The broom was well on its way to becoming bristle-free. Not only that, but if anybody asked me why I was sweeping the floors, I had to tell them why. I learned from this experience that nothing is free in this world, you only get what you want by earning it.
I don’t think they make “Cherry Humps”
candy bars anymore. If they did, they would be safe from me.
我在一个综合农场长大，里面栽种着很多不同种类的农作物，饲养着各种各样的家畜，数不胜数。我母亲有一个我们称之为“产蛋室”的破旧鸡舍，在那里，她养了几百只蛋鸡。每天，我们都会收集鸡蛋。当我们需要食品杂货时，母亲就会把鸡蛋拿到哈特兰镇的西比瑞德中心杂货店去换一些回来。偶尔，鸡蛋钱还有些余钱足够我买一块糖果棒。
这种事是不常有的。我不喜欢巧克力，但不知道为什么我很喜欢“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒——两颗樱桃外面沾满巧克力酱，再以厚厚的巧克力粘在一起，外面还包着糖纸。
有次到镇上用鸡蛋换杂货，我特别想吃一块“樱桃驼峰”。那时我七岁。我们并不常到镇上去，不是每只母鸡都会下很多蛋。下蛋少的母鸡就会成为周日晚餐中的炸鸡。如此一来，鸡的数量就越来越少。母亲把鸡蛋拿到店后面，让它们顺着一个斜槽滑下去，斜槽的另一端有人负责照鸡蛋。所谓照鸡蛋就是一个人把鸡蛋置于他或她的视线和灯光之间检查，凭经验能看出鸡蛋里有没有血块，是不是坏掉的，或者是否已受精。
我们那天拿去的鸡蛋并不是很多，所以跟着母亲走过西比瑞德杂货店寥寥无几的货架通道时，我心知这次要得到心爱的糖果棒是机会渺茫了。母亲指示我拿货品，听到她说“给我”这个那个的，还对我满口“谢谢”。但很快我就知道，显然这天我是无福享受“樱桃驼峰”了。
母亲在收银员那里结帐的时候，我做了一件非常愚蠢的事情。我从杂货店的架子上拿了一块“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒，把它放进我的口袋里。等到把食品杂货放进我们那辆破旧的庞蒂克，开车回去骡湖农场继续那些等待着我们的无尽杂活时，我钻进了后座里。
车开到半路，我的味蕾再也等不下去了。我把那糖果棒从口袋里掏出来，尽可能轻手轻脚地撕开糖纸，咬下其中一颗裹着巧克力的樱桃。我太全神贯注地品味着糖果棒的美妙口味了，根本没有留意到母亲正从后视镜里盯着我看。她踩了刹车，车子在那段碎石路上慢慢滑行停了下来。
“你那块糖果棒是从哪儿来的？”她问道。
“西比瑞德杂货店。”我边咕哝着，边试图吞下罪证。
“怎么得来的？你根本没钱买！”
我不需要作任何回答。母亲能从我那张写满内疚的脸上看出来。她把破旧的车子掉头，开回哈特兰镇。我本希望母亲是开回去西比瑞德杂货店给那糖果棒付钱的，可是我没那么幸运。她揪着我的耳朵，把我拖出车，拖进西比瑞德杂货店。这间杂货店由肯尼·西比瑞德和雪莉·西比瑞德经营和所有，他们都很友善。我被母亲揪着耳朵带到肯
尼·西比瑞德跟前。
“肯尼，”我母亲张口就说，“我儿子有话要对你说。”
我想肯尼当时会觉得场面很有趣，但我母亲可不这么认为。我不得不告诉肯尼我所做的事——我偷了一块“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒。我不得不对他说我很抱歉，并保证以后再也不会这样做了。这是事实。我很抱歉，而且保证再也不会做那样的事情了。然而这些对于我母亲来说还不够。她接下来连续六天每天下午都把我载到镇上。一到那里，我就得走进西比瑞德杂货店，用一把不好使的扫帚扫地。那扫帚头都快被磨秃了。不仅如此，只要有人问我为什么在扫地，我都得告诉他们原因。我从这次经历体会到，天下没有免费的午餐，你想要得到任何东西，都必须自己去赚取。
我想他们不再做“樱桃驼峰”糖果棒了。就算他们还在做，也大可对我放心。