Every Christmas should begin with the sound of bells， and when I was a child mine always did. But they were sleigh bells， not church bells, for we lived in a part of Cedar Rapids， Iowa， where there were no churches。 My bells were on my father’s team of hors as he drove up to our hor-headed hitching post with the bobsled that would3 take us to celebrate Christmas on the family farm ten miles out in the country. My father would bring the team down Fifth Avenue at a smart trot， flicking his whip over the hors’ rumps and making the bells double their light， thin jangling over the snow， who radiance threw back a brilliance like the sound of bells。
每一个圣诞节都是由铃铛声拉开序幕的，我童年记忆中的圣诞节总是如此。但那不是教堂里的铃铛，而是雪橇上的铃铛，因为我们家居住在爱荷华州的细达河洛佩兹的一个地区，那个地区没有教堂.我的铃铛在我父亲拉雪橇的马队里。我家有一个马头形的拴马桩，父亲会把马儿们赶到拴马桩那儿把大雪橇套在马身上，带着我们到10英里以外的乡下农场去庆祝圣诞节。当父亲驾着马车轻快地驶过第五大街,轻轻地舞动着马鞭时，清脆悦耳的铃声便跳跃在我的耳畔。地上辉映着的雪光使铃声更加清脆动听。
小学生作文400字
There are no such departures any more: the whole family piling into the bobsled with a foot of golden oat straw to lie in and heavy buffalo robes to lie under, the hors stamping the soft snow， and at every motion of their hoofs the bells jingling, jingling. My father sat there with the reins firmly held， wearing a long coat made from the hide of a favorite family hor， the deep chestnut color still glowing， his mittens also from the same hide. It always troubled me as a boy of eight that the hors had so indifferent a view of their late friend appearing as a warm overcoat on the back of the man who put the iron bit in their mouths.
如今再也没有那样的出发场景了：一家人挤上大雪橇，身下是金黄的燕麦草，身上盖着厚厚的水牛皮长袍；拉雪橇的马儿踩着柔软的雪，系在它们脖子上的铃铛随着马蹄的节奏叮当作响.父亲坐在那里牢牢地握着缰绳,他穿的长大衣是用家里人都非常喜欢的一匹马的皮毛做成的。那深红棕色的皮毛仍然闪着光泽，他戴的手套也出自同一张马皮。那时8岁的我总是很纳闷,不知道为什么那些马眼见着它们刚刚故去的朋友变成了把衔铁塞在它们嘴里的人身上温暖的大衣而熟视无睹，毫无反应。
苹果平板截屏
履怎么读音>大接访
There are no streets like tho any more： the snow nsibly left on the road for the sake of sleighs and easy travel。 We could hop oil and ride the heavy runners as they made their hissing， tearing sound over the packed snow。 And along the streets we met other hors， so that we moved from one t of bells to another, from the tiny tinkle of the individual bells on the shafts to the silvery, leaping sound of the long strands hung over the harness. There would be an occasional brass—mounted automobile laboring on its narrow tires and as often as not pulled up the slippery hills by a hor， and we would pass it with a triumphant shout for an awkward nuisance which was obviously not here to stay。
如今再也没有那样的街道了:为了让雪橇能够顺利驶过,路面上的积雪被有意地保留了下来。我们的雪橇跳跃着在铺满雪得路上狂奔,沉重的划板摩擦着地面发出嘶嘶的声音。在街上,我们会遇到其他的马匹,当我们驶过时可以挺大一串串各不相同的铃铛声.有的马车车辕上挂着单个铃铛，发出轻微的叮当声；有的马具上则挂着一长串铃铛,发出清脆悦耳、忽高忽低的响声。在路上，偶尔我们会遇上坐着镇上官员的小汽车，窄窄的车轮在积雪的路上吃力地行驶着，而且经常不得不用一匹马拉着才能驶上溜滑的山坡。每当这时我们就会发出胜利
养生食谱者的欢呼快速驶过，嘲笑那个钢铁家伙的蠢笨和不合时宜。
The country road ran through a landscape of little hills and shallow valleys and heavy groves of timber, including one of great towering black walnut trees which were all cut down a year later to be made into gunstocks for the First World War。 The great moment was when we left the road and turned up the long lane on the farm. It ran through fields where watermelons were always planted in the summer becau of the fine sandy soil, and I could go out and break one open to e its Christmas colors of green skin and red inside。 My grandfather had been given some of that farm as bounty land for rvice as a cavalryman in the Civil War。
乡间公路穿过一片小山丘，那里有很多浅浅的山谷，到处长满了郁郁葱葱成片成片的树林。其中有一大片高耸入云的黑胡桃树一年后都被砍倒，制成了在第一次世界大战中使用的枪支的枪托。最令人兴奋的时刻是我们的雪橇离开乡村公路驶上通往农场的长长的小路的时候。雪橇驶过片片田地，那里是优良的沙质土壤，夏天种满了西瓜。在西瓜成熟的季节，我总会好奇地跑去地里打开一个,看看墨绿的瓜皮里红红的瓜瓤，那是圣诞的颜色。那片土地是我祖父因在南北战争中服过役当过骑兵而得到的奖赏。
Near the low hou on the hill， with oaks on one side and apple trees on the other, my father would stand up， flourish his whip， and bring the bobsled right up to the door of the hou with a burst of speed.
在快要接近小山上那座低矮的、一边种满橡树、一边种满苹果树的房子时，父亲总会从雪橇座位上站起来,用力挥舞着手中的马鞭，以风驰电掣般的速度把雪橇驶到房门口停下。潮州习俗
平静英文
There are no such arrivals any more: the harness bells ringing and clashing like faraway steeples, the hors whinnying at the hors in the barn and receiving a great， trumpeting whinny in reply， the dogs leaping into the bobsled and burrowing under the buffalo robes， a squawking from the hen hou， a yelling of “Whoa， whoa,” at the excited hors， boy and girl cousins howling around the bobsled, and the descent into the snow with the Christmas basket carried by my mother。
如今再也没有那样的到达时的热闹景象了：车辕上的铃铛清脆响亮，就像远处的尖塔一样优美绚丽;马儿们朝着马厩里的马嘶鸣，马厩里的马儿们也以热烈响亮的嘶鸣作答，狗儿们牛皮毯子下钻来钻去；母鸡窝里传来咯咯的鸡叫声;为了让兴奋的马儿们安静下来的“喔！
喔！”声；堂兄弟姐妹们在雪橇周围欢闹着追逐着;一家人走下雪橇,踏入雪中，妈妈提着的篮子里装满了圣诞节的东西。
