One day, I finally

There was a pump house in the field, and the pump house was surrounded by corn. The old man who watched the pump lived and ate in the pump house for many years and did not go home. His house is in my front room, opposite my house. I have never seen the old man go back home. The old man's wife lives at home with three sons and one daughter. There were some thick iron pipes in the basement of the pump house, and the old man used to go down and open the valves on the iron pipes to supply water in some places and shut off water in others. The water pump room is surrounded by a circle of land with iron gill net. In the field, there are vegetables and melons, tomatoes, beans and corn, and red girls are planted on the edge of the ground. In autumn, those red girls are red and coquettishly, like brilliant flowers, very beautiful. I often pull the barbed wire to look inside, of course, the most like to look inside the two vines, a string of purple and black grapes to increase my mouth saliva. Grown-ups say it's called rose grapes, and it tastes delicious. I've never had one, and I can't imagine what a scented grape is. I said to my father, "What is a scented grape? "My father said it was easy to plant a vine. When the vine was pruned, you could pick up a few branches and bury them in the ground. In the next spring, you could plant them in the ground and water them often. Since then, I look forward to the arrival of autumn, after the arrival of autumn, I almost go to the pump room once a day, waiting to see the pump old man pruning, under the learning to go, under the learning to go, afraid of missing the pruning time. My heart is full of the beautiful hope that I will also have a vine. Finally, the day came for pruning. I asked the old man for a few branches and took them home. I jumped down into the cellar and buried the branches in the moist soil. I longed for winter to be over as soon as possible, but the longer I longed for it, the longer I found that hope was a kind of torture. In the spring I used to go round the pump house to see when the old man was digging up the vine stand. Sometimes, when I see the strong wind blowing wormwood, the wormwood is like a ball rolling over the vast field, which makes the empty field more desolate.

One day, I finally saw the old man put up a vine tree, I hurried home, jumped down the cellar and took out the vine branches, buried them in the yard in front of the window, and often watered the tree pit. Father said that the vine is not afraid of water, especially when watering to the vine, the head of the tree will drop water, which proves that watering. I imagined the dripping of the vines, and hoped that the branches would sprout and grow into vines. Every morning before school, I want to look at the grape branch for a while, come back to look at the grape branch for a while, that is really fascinated, my childlike innocence is full of hope of passion. The little boughs on the vine grew, and I knew that life was growing there day by day, and that excited me. Then the vine did grow, and in the third year it bore little ears. The ear of the grape flower is small, like millet particles, and when those flower buds grow to the size of yellow rice, they begin to bloom, spit out yellow petals, but when the flower is still very small, no flower meaning. So the vine is not for flowers. The vine is not to see the flowers, in fact, it is the fruit that makes the tree interesting. That year, the vine I planted bore five bunches of grapes. I almost every day to see those small grapes, like rice, gradually like mung beans, later like peas, and then like children playing glass balls, heavy hanging on the branches, is really beautiful, really let a person's heart happy. Can never expect is, in the green grapes gradually red, suddenly was a little girl stole two strings, I was really angry. I found out from the neighborhood that the little girl had been hanging around my house, and I was sure that she had stolen my grapes. I waited for her on the way home from school, and I thought that when I caught her, I would give her a good beating. I saw the little girl, and she saw me, and when she saw me, she started to go the other way, and I ran toward her, and she started to run, and her bag kept beating her ass, and as I got closer to her, she was crying out in a really creepy voice. I grabbed the little girl by the shoulder and almost pulled her down. I stared at her and shouted at her, asking her if she had stolen my grapes. She did not say yes or no, but cried, "I dare not... Dare not... I dare not... .." What did she look like when she was frightened? Like a mouse under the claws of a cat. I was overcome by the little girl's frightened look. I let go of her and she left in tears.