于是，伯父家蓋房，想以它壘山墻，但苦于它極不規則，沒棱角兒，也沒平面兒；用鏨破開吧，又懶得花那么大氣力因為河灘并不甚遠，隨便去掮一塊回來，哪一塊也比它強。房蓋起來，壓鋪臺階，伯父也沒有看上它。有一年，來了一個石匠，為我家洗一臺石磨，奶奶又說：用這塊丑石吧，省得從遠處搬動，石匠看了看，搖著頭，嫌它石質太細，也不采用。
它不像漢白玉那樣的細膩，可以鑿下刻字雕花，也不像大青石那樣的光滑，可以供來浣紗捶布：它靜靜地臥在那里，院邊的槐蔭沒有庇覆它，花兒也不再在它身邊生長?；牟荼惴毖艹鰜?，枝蔓上下，慢慢地，竟銹上了綠苔、黑斑。我們這些做孩子的，也討厭起它來，曾合伙要搬走它，但力氣又不足：雖時時咒罵它，嫌棄它，也無可奈何，只好任它留在那里去了。
It was neither as fine as the white marble that you could carve words or flower patterns on it. nor as smooth as the blue marble that could be used to wash clothes on; it lay there silently, without pagoda trees at the edge of the yard shading it or flowers growing around it. Then weeds multiplied and stretched around it, which was gradually covered with green moss and black spots. As children, we held a grudge against it and would have moved it away together, but we didn’t have enough strength. Although we often cursed it and detested it. there was nothing we could do but leave it there.
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