双语故事 顽皮的孩子

　　Along time ago, there lived an old poet, a thoroughly kind old poet. As he was

　　sitting one evening in his room, a dreadful storm arose without, and the rain

　　streamed down from heaven; but the old poet sat warm and comfortable in his

　　chimney-corner, where the fire blazed and the roasting apple hissed.

　　"Those who have not a roof over their heads will be wetted to the skin," said

　　the good old poet.

　　"Oh let me in！ Let me in！ I am cold, and I'm so wet！" exclaimed suddenly a

　　child that stood crying at the door and knocking for admittance, while the

　　rain poured down, and the wind made all the windows rattle.

　　"Poor thing！" said the old poet, as he went to open the door. There stood a

　　little boy, quite naked, and the water ran down from his long golden hair; he