第1章 The Old Mans Hard Life[第2页/共8页]

“I know,”the old man said.“ It is quite normal.”

“Santiago,”the boy said.

“Are his eyes that bad?”

“Why not?”the old man said.“ Between fishermen.”

“Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,”he said.

“Have faith in the Yankees my son.Think of the great DiMaggio.”

“Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five?Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.”

“I am a strange old man.”

“How old was I when you first took me in a boat?”

“If you were my boy I'd take you out and gamble,”he said.“But you are your father's and your mother's and you are in a lucky boat.”

“I have mine left from today.I put them in salt in the box.”

“No,”the old man said.“ But we have.Haven't we?”“Yes,”the boy said.“Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we'll take the stuff home.”

When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down.The boy took the old army blanket off the bed and spread it over the back of the chair and over the old man's shoulders.They were strange shoulders,still powerful although very old,and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward.His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun.The old man's head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face.The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted.