“干什么的？”老太太問。
郵差先生告訴她：“有一封信，掛號信，得蓋圖章。”
老太太沒有圖章。
“那你打個鋪保，晚半天到局子里來領。這里頭也許有錢?！?/p>
“有多少？”
“我說也許有，不一定有?！?/p>
你能怎么辦呢？對于這個好老太太。郵差先生費了半天唇舌，終于又走到街上來了。小城的陽光照在他的花白頭頂上，他的模樣既尊貴又從容，并有一種特別風韻，看見他你會當他是趁便出來散步的。說實話他又何必緊張，他手里的信反正總有時間全部送到，那么在這個小城里，另外難道還會有什么事等候他嗎？雖然他有時候是這樣抱歉，他為這個小城送來——不，這種事是很少有的，但愿它不常有。
Mr. Postman eventually went back onto the street again after spending a lot of time explaining. With the top of his graying head bathed in the sunlight of the small town, he looked both dignified and calm, which showed his special charm, so at the sight of him, you would think that he was out taking a walk at his leisure. To be frank, with enough time to deliver all the mail anyhow, there was no need for him to be hurried, so would there be anything else that he had to take care of in this small town? Though sometimes he was so sorry to deliver bad news here—no, it was rare, and if only it would not happen often.
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