其实，盖拉辛也已经猜到，木木决不是因为迷路而失踪，一定是女主人让人把木木送人了，因为仆人们用手势告诉他木木咬伤了它。盖拉辛打定主意，要想尽办法来对付这个麻烦。他先拿了一块面包喂了木木，又抚爱了它一阵，才把它放在床上睡觉。盖拉辛自己则陷入了深思，整整一夜，他都在考虑如何将木木隐藏起来。
后来他决定白天就让木木待在顶楼上，自己偶尔去看看它，到了晚上再带它出去。
天还没亮，他就起来了，用旧大衣把门上的洞塞得紧紧的，然后像什么事情也没发生似的走到院子里去了。
木木回来之后，盖拉辛干起活来更卖力了，他把院子打扫得干干净净，并亲手将杂草一根根拔光，甚至把花园篱笆上的树桩一个个拖走了。就连女主人也夸奖他能干，是个好人。
就这样，他白天偷偷地到顶楼上去看木木两次，到了晚上，就和它一起在阁楼里，而不是在干草棚里睡觉。只有到了深夜，他才带着它出去，在新鲜的空气里散步。
那天，他领着木木走了很久，正打算回去的时候，身后传来一阵沙沙声。木木竖起耳朵，咆哮着，跑到篱笆前，嗅了嗅，接着发出了尖利的吠声。也就在这时，女主人刚刚睡着，突然的狗叫声把她惊醒了，她吓得心怦怦直跳，几乎昏过去了：“又是那只狗，你们听听，那狗还在叫呢。”
管家大吃一惊，他恼羞成怒，立即吩咐把整个院子的人都叫起来，来处理这件事情。
这时，不幸的木木还在继续叫着，盖拉辛一直叫它离开，可它就是不听。盖拉辛回过头，看见屋里有灯光和人影晃动，感到出了大事，大祸临头了。于是他抱起木木跑到顶楼上，把自己和木木反锁在屋里。
在通往盖拉辛顶楼的狭窄楼梯上，坐着一个守卫，门口还有两个，手中拿着棍子。他们用拳头砸门，并叫嚷道：“开门！”
突然，门开了，盖拉辛站在那里，一动不动地望着他们。管家向前走了一步。他开始用手解释说是女主人坚持要把那狗弄走，叫哑巴立刻把狗交出来，否则他就要倒霉。盖拉辛用手指了指小狗，用手比画着，在自己的脖子上绕了一圈，好像是把一根绳索勒紧似的。这是声明他愿意自己担负处死木木的任务。
“好吧，行，”管家一面看，一面点着头，“也就这样吧。”
盖拉辛轻蔑地笑了笑，又拍了拍胸膛，然后“砰”地一声把门关上了。木木一直都在他身边站着，天真地摇着尾巴，露出一种询问的表情。
过了一个钟头，盖拉辛出来了，他穿上了最好的衣服，用一根绳子牵着木木。院子里所有的人，都默默地看着他。
盖拉辛带着木木，走进了一个小饭馆，要了一份带肉的菜汤，支着胳膊在桌子跟前坐下。木木在他的椅子旁边站着，用它那双机灵的眼睛，默默地望着自己的主人。它身上的毛是光溜溜的，谁都能看出，盖拉辛刚给它梳过。他捏了一点面包放在汤里，把肉弄碎，然后将盘子放在地上。
木木还是用它往常的那种姿势开始吃东西，它的嘴刚好只挨到食物。盖拉辛深情地望着它，望了很久，突然，他的眼泪滑落下来，一颗掉在木木的额头上，一颗掉在汤里，他痛苦地用手挡住了脸。
盖拉辛仍用绳子牵着木木，不慌不忙地走着。在半路上，他捡了两块砖头挟在腋下。
盖辛拉沿着河边走着，然后在两只绑在树桩的船前停了下来，他带着木木跳到一条船上，然后就开始拼命地划，一会儿就划出了几百米远，将莫斯科远远地甩在了后边。
他丢下桨，低头去靠近木木，木木也面对着他，坐在一块横板上。
最后，盖拉辛站了起来，脸上露出一种痛苦而愤怒的神色，将两块砖用绳子拴上，又打了一个活结，套在木木的脖子上，然后抱起木木，举到河面上，最后望了它一眼。木木信任地望着自己最亲近的主人，不但没有畏惧，还轻轻地摇着尾巴。
他把脸转过去，痛苦地皱着眉头，放开了手……
他既听不见木木掉入水中时那短促的惨叫，也听不见河水溅起的声音，对于他，所有的一切都是寂静无声的。
当他把眼睛睁开时，只见小小的浪花在河面上奔腾，碰在船弦上，飞溅开来，只有在船后面很远的地方，才有一个大圆圈，快速地向岸边扩散。
监视盖拉辛的园丁跑回家，向管家报告了所看到的一切。“他果然把它淹死了，太好了，现在可以放心了。”管家说。
深夜，一个高大的人影，背上扛着一个包袱，手里拿着一根棍子，匆匆往城外走去，他就是哑巴盖拉辛。
他义无反顾地，急急忙忙地走着，走向家的方向，走向自己的村庄，自己的祖国。
他挺起胸膛迈着大步，一双眼睛忧怨地注视着前方……
心灵小语
读一个哑奴和一只狗生死相依，无言而情深的故事，看他们如何相依相偎，相守相望，却又不得不在困境中挣扎，沉沦，你会知道，即使在绝望之境，爱依然不舍不弃。
记忆填空
1. She used to him in the morning, pulling at his coat; she used to take the reins in her , and bring him up the old horse that carried the water, with she was on very friendly terms.
2. He turned along the , went to a place where there were two little rowing-boats fastened to stakes, and jumped into one of them Mumu. Gerasim rowed on and on. Moscow was soon left behind.
3. Meanwhile, at that very time, a gigantic figure with a on his shoulders and a stick in his , was eagerly and persistently stepping out the road. It was Gerasim.
佳句翻译
1. 他回到自己住的顶楼，把小狗放在床上，用自己的厚大衣把她盖好。
译
2. 这只小狗和盖拉辛结下了不解之缘，彼此相依为命，形影不离。
译
3. 他既听不见木木掉入水中时那短促的惨叫，也听不见河水溅起的声音。
译
短语应用
1. She was in high spirits; she laughed and made jokes.
in high spirits：喜气洋洋，兴高采烈
造__________________
2. Then Stepan, seizing his chance, suddenly pounced on her, like a kite on a chicken.
pounce on：突然袭击，扑向
造__________________
回?家
Go Home
佚名 / Anonymous
A freezing downpour washed the black asphalt street in front of the small town bar. I sat gazing into the watery darkness, alone as usual. Across the rain-drenched roadway was the town park:five acres of grass, giant elm trees and, tonight, an ankle-deep covering of cold water.
I had been in that battered old pub for half an hour, quietly nursing a drink, when my thoughtful stare finally focused on a medium-sized lump in a grassy puddle a hundred feet away. For another ten minutes, I looked out through the tear-streaked windowpane trying to decide if the lump was an animal or just a wet and inanimate something.
The night before, a German shepherd looking mongrel had come into the bar begging for potato chips. He was mangy and starving and just the size of the lump in question. Why would a dog lie in a cold puddle in the freezing rain? I asked myself. The answer was simple: either it wasn’t a dog, or if it was, he was too weak to get up.
The shrapnel wound in my right shoulder ached all the way down to my fingers. I didn’t want to go out in that storm. Hey, it wasn’t my dog, it wasn’t anybody’s dog. It was just a stray on a cold night in the rain, a lonely drifter. So was I, I thought, as I tossed down what was left of my drink and headed out the door.
He was lying in three inches of water. When I touched him, he didn’t move. I thought he was dead. I put my hands around his chest and hoisted him to his feet. He stood unsteadily in the puddle, his head hung like a weight at the end of his neck. Half his body was covered with mange. His floppy ears were just hairless pieces of flesh dotted with open sores.
“Come on.” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to carry his infected carcass to shelter. His tail wagged once and he plodded weakly after me. I led him to an alcove next to the bar, where he lay on the cold cement and closed his eyes.
A block away I could see the lights of a late night convenience store. It was still open. I bought three cans of Alpo and stuffed them into my leather coat. I was wet and ugly and the clerk looked relieved as I left. The race-type exhausts on my old Harley Davidson rattled the windows in the bar as I rode back to the bar.
The barmaid opened the cans for me and said the dog’s name was Shep. She told me he was about a year old and that his owner had gone to Germany and left him on the street. He ate all three cans of dog food with an awe-inspiring singleness. of purpose. I wanted to pet him, but he smelled like death and looked even worse. “Good luck,” I said. Then got on my bike and rode away.